A Grimm Situation
by Zephyira
Summary: A string of murdered Wesen has Nick scrambling to the find the culprit but runs into something he never expected and is forced to make a choice that could change his fate for the worse. Rated for Gore and Violence, no slash.
1. Chapter 1

Nick didn't have a good feeling when they received the call and now he knows why.

The body is one hell of a mangled mess. The man (at least that's what forensics had said it was) is lying sprawled across his couch which is soaked red with blood. His face is so badly cut Nick can't really classify it as a face anymore and his torso has been split and torn open so he looks like a gaping carcass. All his ribs, deflated lungs and various other organs are exposed and blackened by dried blood. He looks like a bear came and ripped him open.

Nick can't remember the last time he investigated just a normal shooting. Heaven forbid there could be a normal crime in this city.

"What's the deal with our victim here?" Hank asks Wu.

"Carver Burks, aged 52. He's a retired _landscaper_. Scary job, lots of competition. Has no family in the city and no criminal record. A couple speeding tickets though."

"Yeah, a couple tickets makes you a hard core criminal all right." Hank laughs ruthfully.

"So, this wasn't a revenge killing. He doesn't look like the gangster type." Nick comments, looking around at the quaint cottage-like house. A little less quaint with all the blood splattered everywhere. The place reminds Nick of the Blutbad that kidnapped Robin Howell, his house was a lot like this one.

The house has clearly been broken into by the way the door is no longer on its hinges but all the way in the living room and lying in splintered pieces. The entire crime scene screamed Wesen.

"Do we have any prints?" Nick says.

"That's the strange thing. We've swept every surface in this house but all we can find are his prints. Looks like this guy didn't have any guests recently." Wu says.

"Well, whoever did this is a good killer." Hank says.  
>Nick finds it absolutely amazing that there isn't a single print. The struggle obviously went all over the house because there's blood in almost every room. Not that the man isn't cut up enough for it but to have no prints at all throughout the entire house is baffling.<p>

Nick leans in to analyze at the cuts all over the man's face. They're nasty, jagged slashes that took out his eyes and flayed the rest of his face.

"Do you think a knife could do this?"

"Yeah, if it was a steak knife. Look how the cuts are all ripped around the edges. We'll have to see what Harper says for confirmation. I don't think we'll get much more out of this place." Hank says as he heads to leave.

Nick trails behind him but his eyes are caught by a phone address book lying on the kitchen counter. He peers over at it, pulling out his own notepad. He scrawls the first five numbers down but stops when he hits the sixth.

_Eddie Monroe_

_503-99-_

He doesn't have to write that one down but it does raise enough questions. This guy doesn't have a lot of clocks that he's seen so why would he have Monroe's name down in his address book? Unless they knew each other. He almost has a hard time believing Monroe knew anybody the way he chose to live, a bit isolated. Fortunately, all his questions can be answered with a quick visit to his Blutbad friend.

* * *

><p>Back at the Precinct Nick manages to evade Hank and makes a quick trip down to Monroe's. Recently, he'd become paranoid with the thought of discussing Wesen activity on the police phones as it was just asking for trouble. And that was really the last thing he needed. As much as cops like to pretend their computer system is invincible all it would take is one good hacker and things could snowball from there. Especially if a Wesen or a Reaper got their hands on that kind of information.<p>

Monroe places the coffee cup down on the kitchen table and Nick accepts it gratefully.

"So who is this guy? You say he got torn open?"

"Yeah, looked a bit rough around the edges to say the least. His name is Carver Burks. I found your name in his address book so it piqued my curiosity."

"Do you cops go rifling through every dead man's belongings?" Monroe asks sarcastically.

"When they've been brutally murdered, yes. Do you know him?"

"Vaguely. He's a…_was_ a Blutbad, so we kind of kept our distance. But his daughter collects antique clocks so whenever he gets one that's broken he has me fix it before he sends it down to her. We never really hung around much though, the whole Blutbad thing and all."

"Was he reformed?"  
>"Oh yeah, gave up the child steal thing ages ago. He was Weider for like twenty years. Who killed him?"<p>

"No idea, no prints, no weapons, no nothing. But it was pretty violent, his chest was practically gouged out. He was hardly recognizable. Whoever did this really tore him apart. "

"You're thinking it's a Wesen?"

"Yeah, what else would tear him apart like that? But what would take on a Blutbad?"

Monroe thinks hard on that.

"There's not a lot really. I mean, we have conflicts with Jägerbär when they get in our territories or any other predator types but its pretty open without any evidence. It could even be like that crazy Mauzhertz you dealt with, the one that murdered a Lausenschlange."

To hear Monroe say that makes Nick slightly more frustrated with the dead-end-ness of this case.

"And that's the problem. There aren't even any witnesses. The neighbours heard nothing at all last night. There is _nothing _to work on, aside from calling the numbers I got from his house. But I was hoping you'd have something on this guy. Or a clue, or anything."

Monroe shrugs his shoulders.

"Sorry Nick, as far as I know this guy did nothing to get himself killed. He was a pretty committed Weider."

Nick sighs and stands, taking a last few gulps of coffee before heading off.

"Thanks, Monroe. I'll see you later."

Monroe would say to keep him posted but he knows he will be, if he asks for it or not.

* * *

><p>Back at the Precinct Hank hasn't dug up much either.<br>"Get what you were looking for?" Hank inquires when Nick returns.

"No, actually. But I got five more numbers to check out here. I just recognized one and thought I'd better personally check it out."

Hank shrugs but casts him a sidelong glance.

"How about you? Anything?" Nick asks.

"I saw Harper. Surprise, surprise the guy died from evisceration."

"He was alive until his organs were removed?" Nick asks, mind jumping to Geiers.

"Doubtful, whatever forced open his chest was probably enough to put him into shock immediately. But either way she couldn't find anything aside from the fact he's missing his heart. And whoever removed it knew what they were doing."

"So, we've got a professional."

"Yeah, I've been running checks on similar crimes but I've come up with hits all over the country. A lot of them are still unsolved."

While Nick mulls on the Geier theory he makes a few calls to the remaining numbers on his list. The first is Burk's daughter, the clock collector. She's already been contacted so she doesn't talk long, just says her father never did anything to deserve that. The next three prove fruitless, his ex-wife, mother and his friends don't know anything either and have no clue to who might have done it. It crosses Nick's mind that all these people must be Blutbad and that talking to them on the phone is a lot safer than talking to them in person.

He's starting to feel the pointlessness of these calls when the final number, labelled to a Vibora Amante, gets a hit.

"'Ello?" A woman with a Spanish accent answers.

"Hello, this is Detective Burkhardt, Portland PD. Do you know a man named Carver Burks?"

"Um, Yes. This is the police? Has he been arrested?"

"No, he's been murdered."

There's a brief silence before her voice returns.

"I…I might have some information for you but I don't feel comfortable talking about this on the phone. Could you come over to my house?"

"Of course."

"I'll give you the address. It's on 24th Hastings Drive…"

* * *

><p>Half an hour later Nick and Hank find themselves at a grey, ramshackle apartment block. They called the landlord in advance so he's waiting for them out front. He leads them up to Amante's apartment.<p>

She invites them in quickly and shuts the door. The small apartment is the colour of concrete. The crumbling walls are so grey they're almost black. It's a cheap, old apartment with strange yellow curtains hanging from the walls.

"Hello, Detectives."

She smiles wanly as she heads for the kitchen, ushering the men to sit down at the table but they prefer to stand.

"Detectives Burkhardt and...?"

"Griffin. We just want to ask a few questions." Hank says

"So, he's really dead?"

"Unfortunately, yes. You said you had information pertaining to him." Hank prods.

She looks up at him and nods her dark head, eyes strangely tawny.

"Yes, it's not much but he said he was worried. He lost two friends to strange accidents only a few weeks ago. He mentioned he was worried about it but said nothing else."

"So he thought he was going to be killed?" Nick says.

She turns to Nick and stares at him through her slim eyes.

"No. He wasn't involved in anything like that but he was just…nervous about the whole circumstances surrounding their deaths. That's all."

"How did they die?"

She pauses, a grimace on her face.

"They were…decapitated."

Hank frowns at that. Nick doesn't.

As Nick is trying to determine if she's telling the truth her black hair suddenly falls away and her lips shrivel into two severe lines. Grey, scaly skin ripples over her face, teeth sharpening to deadly points. Her yellowed eyes widen as she realizes just who's standing in the room with her. Nick recognizes the Lausenschlange characteristics and tries to hide his surprise at her sudden transformation. Just as quick it ripples away and she's standing there, stunned. His Geier theory flies out the window as this woman becomes his prime suspect. She doesn't take her eyes off him and neither does Nick.

"When was the last time you saw Mr. Burks?" Hank asks.

It takes every shred of her will power to tear her eyes away from Nick, in doing so she moves around the table, putting some distance and an object between them.

"Three, four days ago."

'And you were just friends?"

"Just friends. We met at a social convention."

"What kind of 'social convention?'" Nick presses.

She gives him a glare, brushing her hair back.

"A party. We stayed in touch."

"Do you know anyone who would threaten his life?"

"Yes."

She pointedly looks at Nick.  
>"Who?" Hank prompts, not missing her look.<p>

She looks around, like she's making sure no one is listening.

"There have been a lot of unusual, unsolved murders in the city lately and it's very disturbing to a lot of people like me who are usually ignored by the justice system. It puts me on edge. I'm worried he's out there and police like you don't know who you're looking for."

Nick almost rolls his eyes. If he had committed the murder maybe he'd be feeling nervous but to him her speech seems like pointless venom. He's so tired of the Grimm hating and the instant blame placed on him the second they see him.

"Don't worry. We've got a whole team working this case. We'll catch them." Hank reassures.  
>She eyes Nick again and he returns her stare with an equally withering gaze.<p>

"I hope you do.

"Thanks for your time."

Hank leaves first, slipping out the door and Nick hurries to follow him but just before he can get outside she lashes out, grabbing him by the collar with surprisingly strong arms.  
>"You killed him!" She spits in a vehement whisper. "He didn't do anything! And you killed him!"<p>

He looses her grip on him and steps back, afraid she might go further even with Hank only a few feet away.

"I didn't kill him. I'm only trying to find out _who_ did."  
>She doesn't believe a word of it and huffs dangerously, eyes drilling lasers in him.<p>

"If you _dare_ come after me I'll strangle you!"

She slams the door and flips the bolts.

Did she say she would _strangle _him? He recalls the information on Lausenschlange in the books. They're snakes, they suffocate their prey. Would one rip someone apart given the right circumstances? He'll have to ask Monroe.

Nick quickly files away the though and joins his partner down the hall.

"What was that about?"

Nick shrugs, no valid excuse leaping to mind.

"Did you see the way she was looking at you? She looked like she expected you to leap across the table."

"It was hard to miss."

In the past Hank had never commented on some of the odd reactions Nick got in questionings even though he had to have noticed them. But it appears the number of angry and afraid glares is piling up and too large for him to ignore or brush off anymore. Which isn't good, it means his secret life is getting a little too obvious.

Nick thinks about all his problems, problems with being a Grimm, with Juliette, with Wesen, with Reapers, with keeping his life somewhat balanced and what he can do about all of it. Thankfully, Hank is driving or Nick probably would have caused a car crash the way his focus is absolutely not on the road.

* * *

><p>The uneasy silence of a city night is broken by the pounding of fast footsteps on concrete.<br>The Fuchsbau races up the stairs, heading for the roof. His breath is ragged and laboured as he runs up the steps.

Every other exit is blocked, there's no other escape. This is his last chance.

He bursts through the roof exit and runs across the asphalt like a madman, trying to pick up speed. He can hear beating footsteps behind him and the metal door bang open. The roof is about to end but he's convinced he can jump the chasm to the next building. But the closer he gets the wider the gap grows. He slows to a stop mere metres away from the edge. He peers over and realizes there's no way he can clear the four metre gap without falling to his death six stories below. The footsteps behind him slow as well and he whirls around.

A man, dark hair blustered by the night breeze, strides up. An axe is clutched loosely in one hand. The dull metal looks tarnished and old in the moonlight, rusted with blood. The man pushes his hair back and stares up at the moon. It's bright like a silver coin that lights up the whole city under its harsh glow. He looks casual, relaxed, as if he hasn't chased a man all over a building with an axe.

"It's a lovely night."

"Please, please I didn't do anything." The Fuchsbau pleads.

"That's a lie. You have quite the record. Where's the Grimm?"

"I don't know, I don't know. I haven't seen him."

"They made it quite clear you had seen him." The man says calmly.

"He's a cop. That's all I know. I haven't seen him for months. I don't know where he is!" His voice is near hysterical and panicked.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." He quivers.

"So, he's a cop?"

"Yes."

The dark haired man smiles and takes a step forward. The Fuchsbau doesn't notice how close to the edge he is.

"Well, you've been quite helpful. If he is a cop as you say I'm sure he'll receive my message."

He smiles in a friendly manner but it's the look of a psycho with the axe glinting dully in his hand. He raises the blunt weapon above his head with that look hidden quietly in his eyes. The Fuchsbau is about to scream when the axe comes down on top of him.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

The call at five in the morning is worse than unwelcome, it's down right irritating. Nick manages to ignore the first three times the phone rings but is unable to ignore the banging on the front door. When he drags himself downstairs he finds Hank there to pick him up and take him to a crime scene. He manages to get dressed, down a coffee and stuff a bagel in his mouth and is out the door in less than five minutes. In another ten minutes they're downtown and looking at quite the horrific scene.

The body is splayed on the ground in an alleyway, arms spread wide and legs twisted at odd angles. Nick can almost believe that the six story fall alone would be enough to kill him…if it weren't for the hatchet buried in his chest. Wu is at the scene and ready to be their guide to this murder. He looks exhausted, dark marks under his eyes and a look that says this isn't good and it's not going to get better.

"Rupert Dujion, lived in the apartments here. He owned a shop that shut down a couple months ago. Apparently not afraid of heights." Wu says, stepping carefully around the body.

Nick walks around and kneels by the body. He's hit with a sick sense of dread as he looks at the man's face. It's the Fuchsbau he put out of business a couple months ago, the one pedaling human organs. This raises a lot more questions than he can ever possibly answer at this rate. Nick wonders if whoever killed him knew about his past. Axe murderers aren't that common.

"What did he sell?" Hank asks.

"Antiques."

Nick can't help but wonder how they came up with _that_ answer but he's not about to correct them.

"No prints I imagine." Nick says.

"None, this killer is good, assuming it's the same guy as before. Didn't take his weapon with him this time."

"Can we take this out?" Nick asks, pointing to the axe.  
>"Forensics cleared it."<br>"Care to do the honours?" He looks to Hank.

"Not really, no. You do it." He says all squeamishly and backs off.

Nick grips the handle and wrenches it from the Fuchsbau's chest. It makes a terrible sound but he remembers all the people this guy has trafficked and suddenly it's not so bad.

"Hey, what's that on the blade?" Hank says, coming closer.

Nick flips the axe over and stares wide eyed at the base of the metal head. Etched in crude writing is the word 'Grimm.'  
>"What does that mean? Grimm?" Hank frowns.<p>

Hearing Hank say that word is unnerving, even if he doesn't know what it means. He's got to cover fast or…

"Maybe it's a gang?"

"I've never heard of it."

"There are a lot of gangs we've never heard of."

Hank shrugs.

"Yeah, but we don't often find them on axe blades in people's stomachs."

What can he say to that?

Nick tries to swallow his horror and shock but Hank seems to move on quickly from the mysterious word and turns to Wu.

"Anything we can work with here?"

"Not much, no prints. Can't track who the axe belongs to. We've got guys questioning the neighbours but they aren't turning up much. Except a Ms. Carp, an elderly lady who lived next to Dujion, said there was a bit of a commotion in the halls last night but she didn't go to check. Mr. Dujion here didn't have many friends it seems because we've interviewed everyone in the building and no one seems to know him personally."

"Great, another dead end crime." Hank mutters.

Unfortunately for Nick it isn't quite that dead end but it's going to be a tricky one to track with no evidence. Again. But they've now got an axe with 'Grimm' etched in it. Which isn't exactly great.

"Both victims are loners, reclusive with few friends. Did they know each other?"

"We're working on that but it doesn't look like it." Wu says.

Wu's walky-talky suddenly chirps and a man's voice starts talking.

"_There's been a murder on 24th Hastings Drive, in the basement parking lot of the apartment building at 2357._

Nick and Hank freeze, looking at each other.

"That's where Vibora Amante lives." Nick says.

"I've got such a bad feeling about this." Hank mutters as the three of them head for their cars.

* * *

><p>When they arrive at the apartment block forensics and two other police cars are already at the scene. They head down to the parking lot and their worst fears are confirmed. Forensics has cordoned off three parking spaces. Lying on its side in a pool of congealed blood is Vibora Amante's head.<p>

"Oh god." Hank mutters, nearly chocking at the sight.

He turns away to catch his breath before confronting that head again. Nick, on the other hand, can't tear his eyes away. It's gruesome, terrible but he can hardly move. He can't say he's ever worked on a case where decapitation was involved. Wu has disappeared into the flurry so Nick grabs the closet cop he can find.

"What happened here?"

"Damen Cobrin over there," He gestures to the far end of the garage where a man is pacing back and forth. "…tripped over the head as he was heading for his car. We've found the rest of her body stuffed in a storage cupboard over there. We're almost done with evidence gathering but Mr. Cobrin needs to be questioned."

"Okay. I'll do it."

Nick grabs Hank and pulls him down to the very shaken up man who found the decapitated head.

The man is middle aged, hair still dark but with patchy skin that hints at illness. He's stalking nervously around the far end of the garage as the police carry out their work. From Nick's perspective he looks more than just shaken up, he looks mortified. Well, it would be a bit strange if he wasn't, he found a head in his garage for heaven's sake.

He practically leaps at the Detectives when they come to talk to him.

"Do you know who did it? What happens now?"

"We don't know who did it but we have a few questions for you." Hank sums up.

"Okay, okay, anything."

Nick opens his mouth to start when the man shifts. Hair and smooth skin fall away and are replaced with rough, brown scales and glassy, slitted eyes. He blinks in surprise at Nick but doesn't back off.

Nick represses his surprise and a sigh .

A second Lausenschlange and Amante's dead now. The minute he has a suspect it turns in a whole different direction. Cobrin manages to hide his disdain better than Amante did though.

"How did you know Ms. Amante?" Nick manages.

"We are…were friends. I thought we might get together soon but now…" He swallows hard and looks away.

Nick can't help but catch the 'hiss' and slither in the way he speaks.

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"Just last night, I saw her to her apartment at…11:00."

"Did she have any enemies? Someone who'd want to kill her?" Hank asks

"Ma-Maybe. I wasn't aware of anyone in particular."  
>"Hank, go see what forensics has. I'll finish up." Nick says.<p>

Hank shoots him a look but heads off, leaving Nick with the Lausenschlange. Cobrin's expression changes almost instantly, just barely contained rage bubbling up to the surface.

"She warned me a Grimm was around." He says through gritted teeth.

"I'm a cop. I didn't have anything to do with her death. I don't kill people."

"Yeah right!" He spits. "You killed Carver and then you killed her."

"Did she ever do anything that would get her killed?" Nicks says, somewhat exasperatedly. He's so sick of this reaction.

"What does it matter now? She's dead."

"Look, all I want is to find out what happened to her. I didn't kill anybody. I just want to know about her and figure out what happened. You're going to tell me if she did do something to get herself killed and if you don't answer I'll have you hauled into an interrogation room or put in jail."

Nick knows it's probably not a smart to threaten a Lausenschlange but he has little choice in the matter and the guy is not cooperating.

Cobrin gives him the most vehement and hateful look Nick has ever seen. His eyes shift to black slashes on yellow and Nick swears he can see sharp teeth in his mouth.

"Of course she did! She was normal, every young person is wild! But she changed. She gave that up years ago. You had no right-!"

"I didn't kill her!" Nick almost shouts but manages to keep it contained to an angry whisper.

They glare at each other for all of five seconds before Hank shouts over.

"Hey Nick, hurry up. We've got a hit."

Nick tears his eyes away to glance at Hank before returning them to Cobrin who's still staring hard eyed at him.

"If you think of something that on the offhand chance you want to share, call this number."

He practically shoves the card into Cobrin hands and begins to walk away when the Lausenschlange grabs his arm and stops him. He tenses up, ready for a fight but when he turns to him there's no fight in his eyes.

"There are lots of rumours going around about you. A strange Grimm. There are lots of different stories and opinions going around right now. So few of us have actually seen you."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you have a chance. Even Wesen know a problem person when we see one. We're not all like that though. If you can prove to us that you're not a threat…things could be better. I'm a peaceful man myself, I don't like this kind of stuff."

"Well, neither do I. But I didn't get much of choice. I don't believe in the old ways of terrorizing and beheading."  
>"Neither do I."<p>

For a second Nick feels like he makes a connection. With a Lausenschlange.

"If you see or hear anything else just call that number, okay?"

Cobrin nods.

Nick turns his back, glancing once over his shoulder once before joining Hank. He only half listens as Hank points out some smudged hands mark on the storage cupboard doors. He can't take his mind off what Cobrin said.

He has a chance. A chance to change how Wesen view Grimm? But how can he prove that when he's forced to incarcerate, injure or kill Wesen? Everybody has a family and they're usually the ones mad when these sort of things happen. How can he prove he really isn't like his ancestors? How did he convince Monroe? Actually, he's not sure how he convinced him or even really how they became friends. He considers himself lucky Monroe didn't knock him out that first night and dump him in the woods somewhere. It really had spiralled out of control, some strange, not-really-real friendship until Monroe got beaten up. And then something had changed. So what does that mean? If he keeps going on the way he is, only targeting the bad ones and dealing with them then as they show up and maybe his image will change? He figures it's unlikely but what other option does he have? It's not like has to make a big turn around from butchering people to going straight. But it might help if he can solve these cases quickly or he figures these accusations will continue on and his life will be in constant danger, not to mention Juliette and anybody else he comes in contact with.

He's been feeling the crush of his situation but with that man's words he can see a light, even if its just a pinprick its something to work towards and that takes a bit of the stress off his shoulders.

* * *

><p>Nick and Hank spend the next four hours going through possible suspects, the clues (what little of them there are), the bodies and just about anything else they can think of. For the first time in Nick's entire career, everybody on the suspect list has an alibi, for <em>all three<em> murders. A trip to Harper's Morgue simply reveals the ways the victims perished. All she can tell them is that Amante was beheaded very quickly because of the cleanness of the cut but she can't rule out the weapon.

Nick goes through everything he's learned and all the Wesen cases he's worked but there are hardly any correlations between the murders. All the victims were killed in different ways and different places but the one thing they do have in common is they were all Wesen. What kind of creature would have enough gall to take on a Blutbad and an angry Lausenschlange? He can't say much for Fuchsbau but the former are scary enough

"What kind of killer do you think we're dealing with?" Hank says.

"Well, in all honesty, a really good one. We don't have anything. We don't even have _suspects_. All we have are three brutally murdered people sitting in the morgue."

Whoever is doing this is either really lucky or really good. It's like Jack the Ripper, there's a crazy killing spree but after a couple months it all fades into the ether, unsolved."

"Yeah, but I don't want that to happen." Hank says.

Neither does Nick. As a cop he doesn't want to fail at his job but as a Grimm he doesn't want to let whoever did this get away. He's dismissed the idea it could be a human due to the fact of the killings and that all the victims are Wesen themselves. It only makes sense for another Wesen, probably with a vengeance issue, to be doing this.

The Blutbad, the Fuchsbau and the Lausenschlange. All have some sort of past or another. He hasn't wanted to acknowledge the thought but between the axe with 'Grimm' etched in it and Amante's decapitation its starting to seem like a possibility.

Could it be another Grimm?

It would make sense, from the books its quite clear that axes and decapitation are some of Grimm's favourite things.

He almost doesn't want to believe it and just blame it on some Wesen but that would make him as bad as the ones that think Grimms are all just killing machines. But what if they are? What if this Grimm has gone and killed all these people in cold blood. From what the stories say it wouldn't be anything new. Despite the fact he's handled quite a few cases now and grown used to this new life to some extent he hasn't met another Grimm. Monroe is the closest thing he can imagine, a comrade. That's what he imagines meeting another Grimm is like but what if-

A piercing cry punches through the air just outside the door

"Help me!"

Everyone looks up as a woman in dark, baggy clothes comes racing into the room only feet away from Nick and Hank's desks. The girl flings herself to the floor at Nick's feet and grips his shirt.

"You have to help me. He's going to kill me!"

She looks up pleadingly, eyes wide in terror. Nick is already surprised enough but becomes even more so when her nose flattens and a light, yellow fur covers her skin, a short golden man sprouting around her face. They stare for a second, both a little stunned to see the other.

"You!" She manages in a strangled gasp.

She unhooks her fingers from his shirt and leaps back, straight into Hank. She grabs onto him and leans as far away from Nick as she can get. Her large black eyes stare at Nick in abject fear. She's so afraid she's rooted to the spot, clutching Hank like he'll protect her when Nick inevitably leaps to attack her.

The entire room has frozen in the face of this strange act. It all happens so quickly nobody has gotten past reaching for their guns. Even Hank has frozen.

Suddenly Captain Renard emerges from his office at this moment to investigate the commotion. The woman turns at the movement. Her eyes widen even further and she releases Hank. She races across the room and flings herself at him.

"Please! Please, save me! He's going to kill me! Please!" She begs.

She slumps and Renard has to catch her as she breaks down into a mass of tears.

"Get this lady to an interrogation room." He orders.  
>Two officers pry her off him and lead her away. As she's led into an interrogation room she glances over his shoulder in absolute terror at Nick.<p>

That's just what he needs, a terrified Lӧwen making a scene in front of the entire Precinct.

Fabulous.

Renard comes up to him, that unreadable expression on his face.

"Do you know her?" He asks.

"No, I've never met her."

It's the truth at the very least.  
>"I'll handle her questioning."<br>"Okay."

Nick trusts Renard won't necessarily believe whatever she spews out. At least, that's what he's hoping.

"Now what was that about?" Hank asks, brushing down his shirt.  
>Nick shakes his head. Coming perilously close to having your secret life spilled in front of your boss is enough excitement for one day.<p>

"I have no idea."

"Come on, that woman was terrified of you."

Hank isn't going to let this drop obviously.

"I haven't met her before. I don't know what's wrong with her."

Hank doesn't seem satisfied with that answer but falls silent as the two return to their work. The office returns to normal but there's a lingering nervousness in the air that seems to disrupt the whole place.

* * *

><p>Half an hour of sitting nervously at his desk, waiting to see just what Renard is going to say is agonizing. Hank and he remain silent, pretending to be busy while they're really just waiting for that door to open back up. When it finally does and Renard emerges from the interrogation room Nick nearly leaps to his feet. Renard beckons for Nick to join him in his office.<p>

It takes a lot of will power to hide just how nervous he is but he manages. Renard sits behind his desk and Nick hovers nervously, waiting.

"Ms. Lazzar is under the impression you're going to kill her." Renard says, eyeing Nick with those dead serious eyes.

Nick really doesn't know what to say to that. It's not the first time he has been accused of such a thing.

"Do you really not know her?"

"No, I've never seen even seen her before let alone met her. What did she say?"

He's now burning to know what she told him. If she had spilled the fact he was a Grimm it didn't seem to matter much to Renard as he mildly shrugs and glances to the papers stacked neatly at the corner of his desk.

"Mostly that she was convinced you were going to murder her and she wanted to be put in protective custody."

"Why does she think I'd kill her?"

Renard pauses for a second and Nick senses something wrong.

"Just that she's seen you and believes you'll kill her. She said the recent murders have upset her.

What's he trying to say? Nick doesn't like this. For the first time since meeting the Captain he feels ill at ease.

"What are you going to do?" He asks cautiously.

"What do you think? I'm going to order a medical exam. See if she's on any drugs then release her. Probably a drug induced illusion. Okay?"

Nick wants to heave a sigh of relief but he manages to contain that to a curt nod.

"Thanks."

Renard nods and Nick joins Hank back at their desks. Before Hank can even ask he tells him.

"Captain thinks she's a druggie. He'll release her after she gets a medical exam."

"Well…that's good."

Nick can't help but feel nervous at the lack of a response and the way Hank is staring at him. He sighs and leans back in his chair, letting his head hang over the back and gazes up at the ceiling.

He can tell his partner is suspicious, it's been building for a while now. His little _affinity_ for picking out the bad guys is getting slightly obvious and with that sudden incident his night life is starting to meet his day job more dramatically. It doesn't help every Wesen they meet has an adverse reaction to him.

Suddenly something jolts Nick upright, like a mild electric shock or when you accidentally touch a hot stove. He nearly jumps out of his chair and spins around sensing someone, or something, coming into the room. His eyes lock on a man, his pasty white skin a dramatic contrast against his ruffled, black hair. Nick doesn't have to be psychic to feel the air take on a different tone around this guy. It becomes heavy and strangled, like he should get the hell out of there. Just like that first night when his Aunt and he were attacked, he can feel that dangerous surge of adrenaline and fear.

The man searches the room, looking for somebody. Or something.

TBC

**Okay, I seriously wrote this before I saw the trailer for next week's episode, its one of those worlds colliding things. Thanks for all the faves and alerts!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N./ Hello everyone, hope your still enjoying. I expect I'll get this up at least once a week as my schedule is pretty open right now. Love to hear any thoughts on this anyone may have and they care to voice. Anyways, enjoy the story **

The man stands in the doorway, looking around. There isn't anything striking about him. Looks to be in his late thirties or early forties at Nick's guess, black hair and a nose that looks like it's been broken more than once. The black trench coat he's wearing makes him look akin to the Reaper Hulda that attacked him and his Aunt that night his life was turned upside. He can pick up a faint trace of scaring across his forehead but aside from that (and he'd long ago learned to not judge based on such things) there isn't much to be said for him. But Nick can't stop staring. He can feel his instincts going off but nothing happens. No matter how long he stares no Wesen face pops out, he remains human. It crosses his mind he could be really good at concealing his true face but for this long it's getting slightly ridiculous. The man turns and suddenly their eyes meet. Nick nearly falls back into his chair as his gray eyes meet the man's blue. There's something strange about him that he can pick up from across the room but he doesn't know what it is. Hank is staring at him now like he's gone completely mental.

"Are you okay?"

Nick casts him a quick glance, not wanting to take his eyes off the newcomer.

"I'm fine."

Returning his eyes to the man he notices a faint smile crosses his face as he breaks eye contact and turns around, leaving the room at a brisk pace. Nick lurches to his feet, darting across the room and out the door like he's on fire. He feels compelled to follow, not knowing if it's the smartest thing to do but he does it anyway. Hank watches him go. He wants to follow him, figure out what the hell is up with him but he gets the feeling Nick wouldn't want him to.

Nick bolts down the hall, spotting the man ridiculously far away for the amount of time elapsed.

"Wait!" He shouts.

The man stops and turns, a smile playing on his lips. He's only a little taller than Nick but he's of the same build. Nick stops at a safe distance between them, just for Grimm safety's sake.

"Who are you?" He questions.

The man's smile broadens and he sticks his hand out.

"Alan Flores. I've been looking forward to meeting you."

Nick gingerly shakes his hand, trying to figure out what's going on. This close to him he feels a strange sensation like…fellowship? He's not quite sure though.

"You're Burkhardt, right? Forgive me, I don't know your first name."  
>"Nick." He doesn't know why he would tell this complete stranger his name but it kind of just slips out.<p>

"Who are you?" He repeats the question, feeling it wasn't truly answered the first time.

The man looks over his shoulder, pulling Nick to the side before retrieving a scrap of paper from his pocket and scribbling on it. He hands it to Nick. Written in spider scrawl on the paper is:

I'm a Grimm

Nick clutches the piece of paper before stuffing it in his pocket. He stares in astonishment at this man, Alan, a _Grimm_. A fellow Grimm.

"You're really a..?"

Alan nods.

"Let's not talk about this here" Alan says. "Why don't we get away?"

"Yeah, give me a second." Nick agrees on the spot.

A bit stunned from the sudden appearance of a Grimm he can't even formulate a proper response or any of the questions he should ask before blindly walking off with somebody he doesn't know. But he knows he wants to talk to this man and the Precinct is not the place for it. He runs back to his desk, snatching his coat off the back of his chair.

"Hank, I'm going out for lunch. See ya later."

He comes and goes so fast Hank doesn't even have the chance to open his mouth.

"Okay." He mumbles to no one.

"There's a lovely little bistro just down the road. We can go there." Alan says once they're outside the Precinct.

As they're walking Nick tries to sort out all his questions quickly. He doesn't even know where to begin. Finally, he finds his tongue.

"You're a Grimm?"

"Yes."  
>"How do I know you're not lying?"<p>

"You don't. But we can clear that up. See that woman?"

He points to a dark haired, punk girl across the street staring blankly at her iPod. Her skin suddenly goes white and peely, hair turning into a long black whip.

"She's a Säbelschlange. Cousins of Lausenschlange. A rare breed in general but it goes to show what an attractive spot Portland is for Wesen."

"There are more here than other places?" Nick asks.

"Are you kidding me? Walking down the street at least a third of the people I've seen are Wesen. I've been to New York and it's about the same concentration and for a place like Portland that's saying something."  
>"It can't be that many." Nick mutters, looking around at all the people. Who remain just that, people.<p>

"You're not looking long enough. It's easy when they've lost control, they just pop right out. But when you're looking for them you've got to stare harder. It's all in the eyes. We can force them to drop their disguises. Like her."  
>He points at another woman, strolling down the walk with a smile on her face.<p>

Nick eyes her, willing her face to change.

It morphs, four antennas popping from her forehead and mandibles sprouting out of her mouth. Her eyes go big and bug like, skin roughening to a suffocating purple.

"A Fliegen. They're not all that bad really. Just pests." Alan says.

Nick stops and watches as the fly girl walks away, oblivious to them.

"So wait a second, you said you've been looking for me?"

"For a while now, yeah. I heard about Marie Kessler's passing little over two months ago. I was in Nebraska so I thought I'd take a little spin up here to find this new Grimm. Marie never kept in much contact with any of us or we may have come sooner. I'm actually surprised to find you in one piece seeing the state of this city. Nobody would think of Portland as a place Wesen would like."

"How many more of us are there? Where are they?"

Alan sighs.

"There are not a lot of us really, Nick. I'm acquainted with three that work in the States here. There's one in Canada that I'm aware of. But a lot of us, like your Aunt, prefer to keep a low profile and work underground. It's hard to keep in touch when you're running for you life."

"Can you get in touch with them?"

"Well, I know Shana is somewhere in Florida but I haven't heard from the others in a few months. Anything can happen in a few days as I'm sure you've found out so I don't know. It's getting harder every day to be a Grimm. Between our own scarcity, Wesen and Reapers killing us off and cops - no offense - it's very hard to stay on top of things. How does that work out for you by the way? Being a cop as well as a Grimm?"

Nick thinks for a moment. He can't imagine not being a cop and a Grimm. He wouldn't get anything done. Except get himself killed. And he's close enough to doing that already without any help.

"It's…useful."

Alan smiles at the simplistic answer.

"Here we are." He says and points to a little shop front with 'Jack's Bistro' written on the window.

Inside it's decorated in dark wood paneling and is set up more like a bar than a bistro. There's an almost sullen air about the place. Nick finds it somewhat fitting. It's mostly empty but they take a seat near the front window anyway. Alan sheds his coat and places his gloves on the table. A waitress comes to them immediately.

"What would you gentlemen like?" She chirps, pulling out her pen and pad.

She looks down at them and blinks. Her dark skin thickens and becomes leather like, two horns erupting from her face. Her eyes flit back and forth between the two men before she races away.

"I think we scared her." Alan laughs.

Nick smiles, just happy she isn't attacking them in public like the last Dickfellig he ran into was going to do. Another waitress appears a minute later and takes their order for two coffees.

"So," Alan says. "How have you been making out here? I mean this place must be crazy busy for a cop like you. If I'd known I'd have come here years ago. You've only been a Grimm for like, what, three months?"

"Six. I've survived. Somehow. The books are helpful."

Nick almost feels ashamed for not mentioning Monroe, considering all the help he's given him. He's the sole reason Nick hasn't gotten himself killed off by now. But he's not sure he should mention him, not until he's sure about this Grimm. And he's not entirely sure yet.

"What got old Marie in the end? She was a damn scary woman so it can't have been an accident or anything mild."

Nick wonders what's 'mild' is in the Wesen world. Not like an Eisbiber could kill her.

"She was dying of cancer but a Reaper attacked us the night she told me about being a Grimm."

"A _Reaper_ killed her?" Alan goes wide eyed, a hint of anger hitting his voice.

"No. But he put her in the hospital. I'm sure it didn't help her any though. She died a couple days later after like, three more attempts on her life."

"At least she didn't go quietly. What happened to the Reaper?"

"I shot him."  
>"That's good. In a way. And you haven't seen any more?"<p>

"No. Should I be seeing more?" Nick asks a bit worriedly. He remembers Aunt Marie's warning about Reapers.

"Not necessarily but that is odd. They're very vengeful creatures. Kill one and more are bound to show up. You better keep an eye out for them, they could be lurking, just waiting for a chance at you."

Nick doesn't like the sound of that. If one came after him and got Juliette he would never forgive himself. How can he possibly protect her? He slumps, seeking the feeble warmth of his coffee cup. He stares into the swirling black abyss, wishing a life solving answer would jump out. Alan notices the change in mood.

"What's wrong?"

Nick doesn't know if it's safe to tell him about Juliette. Or maybe he's just afraid he'll have the same response as Marie and Monroe. The words come surprisingly easy though once he starts.

"Alan, did you ever have a girlfriend?"

Alan's eyes fall and a wistful smile captures his face.  
>"Yes, I married a wonderful woman, really sweet girl. It didn't last long though. My father died in a 'shooting' a couple months after we married. That's when I started seeing Wesen. One attacked her a week later when I was still sorting everything out and getting my head together about what was happening. I knew they were looking for me. I'm not proud to say I panicked, but I did. I was too new to it back then and the only way I could think to protect her was to tell her I was cheating. I thought if I could make her so mad that she would never want to see me again and never come looking for me then she'd be safe. It didn't work. I left though. Safest thing I thought I could do for her."<p>

He pauses, looking thoughtfully at Nick.

"You have a girl." He states, no question.

"I don't know what to do. My Aunt said I should leave her and never see her again and…just said I should go. I'm starting to understand why."  
>Alan leans back, crossing his arms.<p>

"How involved are you?"

"Three years. I was going to propose…"

Nick knows it's inevitable. He'll have to leave her. It's really only a matter of time…

"You have to stay with her." Alan says.

Nick's head snaps up.

"What?"

"You've been with her this long, six months. No doubt she's been exposed to the Wesen community. They _know_ she exists. Most will refrain from going after her because they don't want to incur a Grimm's wrath but if you leave it could prove fatal for her. Granted, she could still be killed even if you stay but this far in the game it's safer to stay."

Nick doesn't know whether to jump for joy or cry. But then again, does this change anything? Juliette is still in danger, she could still be killed. And now any hope that he can stop that from happening has been crushed.

"How do you know this?"

Alan looks out the window, the smile leaving his eyes.

"I just know. Wesen are predictable in the fact that they hate anything related to us Grimm. Even if it happens to be an innocent girl."  
>He looks back to Nick, chilling venom in his eyes. It's such a contrast to his earlier appearance it takes Nick by surprise. Though he prides himself on being a good judge of character he knows that despite Alan's almost carefree façade there is something going on inside. Alan catches the unsure look on Nick's face.<p>

"You don't want to condemn her, do you? Stay with her, protect her. You might want to give her a heads up about your life though if you haven't already, and I get the feeling you haven't. I imagine she's reaching the limits of what she can reasonably ignore?"

"Yeah, she's might be getting a bit suspicious."

Nick is a little amazed she hasn't thought something is up, though his recent run in with a Daemonfeuer could have ended a lot worse.

"It'll be good for her to know so she doesn't leave you because she thinks you've gone insane." Alan laughs, his humour returning.

Nick feels relief at the thought that he won't have to leave Juliette and it would be all well and good if it actually solved the problem of her being in danger in the first place. But it looks like it's already too late for that anyway. Now comes the difficult part, how on earth _does_ he tell her? Since Monroe won't play along with helping him (not that he's sure that would help much or even make the situation worse) he's going to have to come up with another tactic. And soon.

But right now is his chance to learn a bit about his Aunt, a woman he lived with for eight years and thought was a librarian but was actually a monster slaying Grimm. He wonders where she found the time.

"Did you ever meet my Aunt?"

"Once or twice when I was a younger Grimm. She was an amazing woman, a true Grimm by nature."

"Can you tell me about her? I didn't know anything about her Grimm life. She did a good job of keeping it hidden."

Nick feels a bitter note run through him. He knows it's not her fault but he definitely wasn't prepared for the world she suddenly thrust in his face without any warning. Once again, its thanks to Monroe he's still alive. No wonder there are so few Grimms.

Alan shrugs, looking uncertain.

"I guess in this day and age it's normal to keep it on the down low. Monsters aren't as readily believed as they once were. Hence why there are mental institutions. I met a Grimm once in mental house but that's another story. I didn't know either but I can't say much for other Grimms. Well, she really was amazing. You would not want to be on the receiving end of her sword. She made quite the name for herself in the Wesen world. You can see it when her name is mentioned. She was a terror. A natural when it came to hunting Wesen. I imagine you have some talent in that area."

Nick doesn't exactly like the term 'hunt' much but he'll take what he can get for now.

"Well, like I said, being a cop is useful."

For a half hour they share experiences. Nick is surprised to find that Alan has never run into Mellifers before and he was fascinated to hear about them. Nick was in turn fascinated by Alan's story of how he met a Gefrierengeber. Apparently, they all kind of look like Santa to some degree. The one thing Nick finds disturbing is that nearly every encounter Alan tells him about ends the same, usually with some Grimm weapon in a traditional method. It doesn't seem to bother him though, he speaks casually of their deaths but with some there's a note of anger. Like when he tells the tale of a particularly tough Blutbad he fought.

"Scariest bitch I ever met. Gave me these scars." He points to the marks on his forehead with some disdain. "She fought and fought, even after I cut her arm off she didn't stop. She deserved everything she got. It took three chops to behead her and even then I wasn't totally sure she wasn't going to rise from the dead to finish me. Nasty beasts, they should all be killed off."

Nick tries to keep a straight face, hiding a grimace at Alan's description but he can't help but look a bit sick. He knows the worst a Blubad can be, he met Angelina. But he also knows the best of what they can be.

After a half hour of talking with Alan he's gotten a good grasp on what kind of man he is. He's a true and tried traditional Grimm, the kind he imagines his Aunt was. He doesn't know how to react to it though.

Grimm kill Wesen. That's the job. It's not like he's completely innocent himself. He shot Hulda, but that Reaper was out for blood and would have killed them both if he hadn't. That was necessary. He'd always tried to solve the conflicts without having to kill somebody but that wasn't always possible. Like the Mellfier queen he was forced to shoot. He thinks over all the cases he's worked. He's far from a saint himself but he only took down the ones that couldn't be stopped any other way. But if he's no saint what does that make Alan? His stories have a far different edge than his own. It's clear he has no mercy for Wesen. But he's a Grimm too, just like himself. He can't deny the feeling of camaraderie he feels, even after a dozen gruesome stories he can't ignore it. Talking about these sorts of things with a fellow Grimm is so strange but right on some level. He wants to like him, if only for the fact they are the same 'species.'

Nick glances at the clock and is surprised to see it's already one o'clock. He's going to be late. Maybe Renard won't chew him out if he gets back quietly enough. But before he leaves he has one last question for Alan, one important question that somehow got lost in everything else.

"Do you know anything about this recent murder spree?"

Alan looks at him quizzically.

"I'm not a cop, I may be a Grimm but I don't know about every death in this city, as I imagine there's a lot. Who died?"

Nick briefly describes the murders, looking for a hint of recognition in his eyes but finds none as he listens intently.

"Sounds like you got one hell of a murderer there. I hope you catch him."

Nick listens to the evenness of his words, watching Alan's face carefully. He puts all his training to the test but he can't tell if he's lying or not. If he is he's doing a damn good job deceiving him.

A lady in the next booth leans over and taps Alan on the shoulder.

"Could you please pass me the salt?"

"Oh, sure."

With Alan's back turned for a fraction of second Nick's mind races. He knows he shouldn't but he can't stop himself. He snatches Alan's gloves off the table and stuffs them in his pocket, wrapping them safely in the plastic of a bag there.

"Looks like it's about time for you to get back to work." Alan comments, returning his gaze to Nick.

He waits for a tremulous moment but Alan doesn't notice the missing gloves. Alan insists on paying and they find themselves outside the coffee shop in the blustering wind.

"Here's my number."  
>He scribbles the number down on a pad of paper and hands it to Nick.<p>

"I'm staying at the Renaissance Inn downtown. If you need help, just call. I'll see you later."

Alan waves and walks off down the sidewalk.

Nick is left standing alone, not sure how he should feel or what he should do. He can't deny the connection he feels with this man. When talking with him he knew exactly what he meant. Not that he's negating everything Monroe has ever done for him but its definitely different talking to a Blutbad and talking to a Grimm.

Suddenly his cellphone starts chirping away in his pocket. He fishes it out and checks the caller ID. It's Hank.

"Hey."

"Nick, can you get down to Burling Road, off highway 79? We've got another murder."  
>Nick glances once over his shoulder as Alan turns the corner.<p>

"Yeah, I'll be right there."

He cuts the line.

"Damn it!"

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Nick only just vaguely knows that Burling Road is on the outskirts of town. It doesn't take long to find, all he has to do is follow the sirens and he arrives there. It's another grey apartment building framed by scraggly, ill looking trees and a nasty yellow lawn. Once again there's a lot of police already on scene. He spots Hank's car in the driveway. Wu provides him with a name and a picture of a woman. His stomach falls when he sees who it is.

Leonie Lazzar.

It's the Lӧwen woman who came screaming into the Precinct mere hours ago.

"I guess she did have something to worry about." Wu says without a hint of humour.

Nick heads inside and almost falls through the old wooden stair case when he climbs to the second floor where the murder took place. He wonders how this place stayed in business with what appears to be a dozen health and building code violations.

Harper and Hank are already in the room. Nick is surprised to see the mortician at the actual seen of the crime but his surprise fades when he sees the state of the body. The body is intact save she's split down the middle. She's splayed on the bed which is soaked with her blood and her entrails are all over the floor. Hank thrusts a medical mask into Nick's hand and he quickly puts it on. Every porous surface is red with blood, the bed sheets, the carpet and every bit of clothing caught in its wake.

"When did she leave the Precinct?" Nick questions.  
>"At 11:00. She must have headed straight home." Hank says.<p>

"Where her killer got her." Nick finishes.

Nick runs through the timeline. Alan hadn't shown up till at least 11:30, maybe 11:45 at the latest. Considering the state she was in when she got to the Precinct and her reaction to Nick maybe Alan had been hunting her. Maybe that was why he was at the Precinct. But was that enough time for him to kill her in? He would have to be very fast but he wouldn't put it past him. He is a Grimm. Nick's mind is wheeling when Harper finally speaks up.

"She died quickly, at the least." She says in a muffle through her mask.  
>"Have you got a weapon on this?" Hank asks.<p>

"A knife. But not an ordinary one. It must have been very long because it pierced her back, cutting about three inches and then back out through her internal organs. This would have to be inflicted by a very long, curved knife by the looks of it. Nothing like a butcher's knife, the cut is incredibly clean. It looks similar to wounds caused by fish gutting knives but this is far too large for any gutting knife I've ever heard of."

A huge fish gutting knife. Nick thinks of all the things in his Grimm cupboard of spiked horrors. Any number of the knives in there could have caused this.

Could Alan have done this?

He can hardly believe it. But then again he could hardly believe that man was a Grimm by his jolly attitude alone. The way he spoke was so happy and carefree, even when it was about his work which might be an indicator that he doesn't think much about murdering Wesen. He smiled easily, not that of a killer either. But what would do this otherwise? This string of murders had to stop. Nick wasn't fully open with him. Who's to say he wasn't hiding things because he didn't trust Nick fully either.

Hank turns to Nick. There's a look on his face that Nick hasn't seen for a long time.

"This has to stop. This has to stop _now_."

Nick nods, knowing full well the feeling of failure. It's there fault that these people keep dying. If they can't do their job and catch someone it's not them who will suffer, its everybody else and all their families.

A glint of sunlight alerts Nick to the shattered window across the room.

"I wonder what did this." He says, gingerly stepping on the blood soaked carpet to get to the window.

"Doesn't look like a rock. A bullet then?" Hank suggests.

Nick stands in front of the window and looks across the room. On the far wall is a small hole in the wood.  
>"Hey, check that out." He points to the dent and comes over to.<p>

They both peer at the triangle indentation, catching the rusty red hue inside.

"A knife? Or maybe…"

Nick looks around for some sign of a weapon. He roots through the closet then drops to his knees, looking under the bed.

"Bingo."  
>A snapped off aluminum arrow shaft with false feathers on the end is lying there. Printed in white on the dark metal is a serial number. He carefully scoops it into an evidence bag without touching it and shows it to Hank.<br>"I bet we could get some prints off this."

"Finally, we're on to something." Hank smiles.

Even Nick smiles at the prospect of actually having something to work on but it's crushed by the thought that this might not have a good ending.

He takes a deep breath, smelling the death and blood through his mask.

What if he doesn't like the answer to this? He has a bad feeling he won't like it. But there's only one thing to do and that's to find out. But he's going to need help. Blutbad help.

That evening Nick meets Monroe at his house and the two drive over to the crime scene. The manager lets them in with hardly a word. He had a good thing going until the cops found this place. Now he's going to court for so many violations.

As Nick and Monroe carefully ascend the stairs Nick tells him about what happened.

"I met someone today."

"Yeah, who?" Monroe says, glaring at the dingy walls and watching his footing carefully.

"Now don't freak out. He's a…a Grimm."

"What!"

Monroe grabs his arm and stops him.

"Are you serious? _Another_ Grimm? Here?"

"Yeah."

Nick starts climbing the stairs again, leaving Monroe frozen mid-step.

"Hold on, wait a moment! Where did you meet him?"

"At the Precinct. He suddenly just showed up."

"What, did he walk through a wall or something? How do you know he's a Grimm?"

"Well, firstly he told me so and second he proved it. He pointed out two women on the street and recognized a Wesen waitress. And he certainly had the stories to back it up. I don't think he could make all that up."

Monroe's curiosity is piqued. Ever since becoming involved with Nick and actually learning that Grimms were real he'd been wondering if another would show up. Just like humans and Wesen are attracted to their own kind surely Grimms are too.  
>"What was he like?" Monroe almost whispers, resuming his climb. Nick remains silent till they reach the top of the stairs. Here Monroe can smell the thick stench of a lot of dried blood. Nick stops, turning to him with dead serious eyes. Monroe is taken aback by just how serious he looks.<p>

"Honestly, he was…scary. He seemed okay, like he smiled a lot and laughed. Seemed totally normal. But the way he talked about Wesen…it was kind of chilling. He seems to have a thing about Blutbaden too so…watch your back. Just in case."

Monroe gets the gist of the encounter and makes a note to be extra careful. A bloodthirsty Grimm wandering around isn't what he wants to run into.

"So…he's a real Grimm. Like the stories."  
>Nick looks away, almost embarrassed.<p>

"Yeah, looks like it."

Monroe hates to see the look on Nick's face. Nick hasn't heard all the stories of his people, what they've done over the centuries and even the personal stories Monroe has heard. Even if Nick isn't like that it's not to say other Grimms are going to share his non-violent outlook. He knows Nick was hoping for someone he could relate to, someone like him but the truth is Grimms have earned their reputation fair and square.

"And that's why I'm here."

"I just need to know if he did kill her. And if it's not him we're really at base one."

"Didn't he confess to you that he did it? Don't Grimms tell each other those kinds of things?"

"How would I know? And no, not really. I asked him if he any idea but he denied it. Either he's lying and he is the murderer or he's not and…well, I don't know then."

"You don't want it to be him, do you?"

Monroe is surprised he actually asks the question and a little annoyed at himself for asking it.

"I don't know. Everything would make sense that way. But…I don't _want_ him to be it. It was weird talking with him. Like…like I imagine how you'd feel with a pack."

Monroe knows the feeling. There is nothing better than being with your own kind, being with people who understand you and know the who shebang are good to be around, for self esteem if nothing else. But he gave it up for something better, and it looks like Nick won't have it either. He understands why Nick is disappointed. Its like the way he was disappointed in Angelina but he still cared for her none the less, even after he went Weider and she carried on down her path.

"Do you think you could pick out his smell amongst a lot of blood?" Nick assk, that hopeful look on his face.

Monroe shrugs, the thought of sniffing through blood not wholly appealing.

"I don't know what I can tell you, I've never smelled him before, I won't be able to tell who exactly has been in this room even if I catch their scent."

Nick, almost magically, produces an evidence bag with two black gloves tucked inside.

"Don't tell me…" Monroe mutters. "You stole his gloves?"

"It was the only way. Here."

He hands it over and Monroe carefully plucks it out of the bag and takes a deep breath. The second the terrible scent hits his nose he nearly gags.

"What? What does it smell like?" Nick asks, frowning at his reaction.

"Ugh, that's…eugh!"

"It can't be that bad." Nick accuses, surprised by the theatrics.

"You wouldn't say that if you could smell this! It's like…_really _spicy curry and…I don't know. All you Grimms must smell like that."

"Like what?"

"Like…basil."

"Basil?" Nick says incredulously.

"Yeah," Monroe says defensively. "That's what I noticed when I first met you. My kitchen smelled like an herb garden. But this guy smells a lot worse."  
>Nick ignores the subtle insult and rolls his eyes.<p>

"Come on."

"What am I, a dog now?" He mutters as he opens the door and steps in.

The air is stale, filled with the scent of dried blood and other bodily fluids. Even though the body is long gone he can easily smell the furry, cat like stench of the deceased Lӧwen woman under all the blood. It's almost impossible to pick out any smell other than that of fur and blood. Nick stands by the door, watching him intently as he wanders around the room. He catches her whiff strongest by the closet, unspoilt by blood. He carefully goes over all the furniture when suddenly, by the nightstand he catches a subtle hint of something different. He follows it to the floor and peers under the bed. For some reason it's strongest in the bed skirt, but it's not the curry smell but a deep, mouldy earth smell. It reminds him of being eight and crawling under the deck with the mice, dirt and everything else you do not want to be crawling through. Despite the natural smell to the strange odour he can tell it belongs to something living and not all together human. He peers under but there's nothing there.

"I'm not smelling him but I am picking up another smell here."

"What is it? Where?" Nick questions.

Monroe points to the bed skirt.

"Smells like mould. And it's definitely a Wesen of some kind."

"That's were we found half of a broken arrow shaft." Nick says.

"Maybe whoever was in here hid it."

"Who would hide an arrow underneath a bed at a crime scene? So you can't smell him anywhere?" Nick says.

"Just give me a second." He says.

Monroe breathes deep again and more scents spring out of the air as the his brain begins to ignore the smell of blood. He works through the scents of the many forensics workers and cops who had been in the room. The mouldy scent is a lot more prevalent in the room than he first thought. Another odd smell hangs in the air, its faint and he can only smell it by the window. Its out of place in this environment, mellow and sweet, like spiced watermelon. He wants to say it's a female scent but he's not entirely sure from this small taste of it. He tries to seek it out in more of the room but it's simply not there. The earthy scent and stench of blood are stronger than all else.

The toxic mix of all these strange scents has his head almost reeling. He ducks out of the room and takes a breath of somewhat fresh air.

"Are you okay?" Nick asks, looking concerned.

"Yeah, fine. Just a bit crowded in there. There's a lot of strange smells in there. But I don't think he was in there Nick. I can't smell him anywhere. But there was definitely some other Wesen. And I think there was another woman in there too, her scent-I think it's a her- was over by the window."

Nick sighs, half in frustration and half in relief. If Alan wasn't in there he couldn't have killed her. And whoever did kill her was a Wesen, not a Grimm.

"Okay, thanks Monroe, this means a lot."  
>"Sure."<p>

Monroe catches himself smiling.

Despite the frequent beatings, not-so-veiled threats, the interruptions and hassles that came with a Grimm he can't say he doesn't enjoy it a bit. Its made life so much more exciting, like the old days without having to be wild and crazy. He doesn't regret agreeing to help a Grimm

Illuminated by the disturbed orange glow of the street lights a man in raggy old clothes toting a backpack circles the block three times before he's certain that he has the right house. He can see a woman puttering around in the kitchen but nobody else has shown up. She must be alone he figures.

The Reaper decides the best way to do this would not be to attack straight out. He will get the woman to open the door and then he can get inside. He'll kill her quietly and make it all seem like normal so when the Grimm comes home he can be taken by surprise.

It really is a better plan than out right attacking him. That was what got Hulda killed and he isn't about to join him in that regard. This Grimm has proven himself capable of killing.

He strolls up the steps, undoing the straps on his backpack so he can easily get at his scythe when the kill has to be made. He makes a forced effort to knock as gently as possible instead of pounding on the door. He can hear her light footsteps as she comes to the door, peering out the window before daring to open it just a crack.

"What do you want?"

"I'm sorry to have bothered you. I was just wondering if you could tell me where Grant Avenue is. I'm a bit lost."

He realizes his reassuring smile must not be too convincing because the woman doesn't open the door any further.

"Um, it's down to the left. You go for two blocks and turn on Evangeline Dri-"

A whooshing noise flits through the air for a fraction of a second before the Reaper's screams penetrate the night. Juliette screams, leaping back from the door, tripping over the sill and falling to the floor, the door flung wide open. She looks up in horror as the man yanks a huge arrow out of his forearm, blood gushing onto the white deck.

Juliette sees a hooded figure standing in the middle of the road. They're holding a bow as long as they are tall. They raise the bow, arrow nocked into place. The Reaper leaps out of the way a fraction of second before the arrow lodges in the door frame with a loud_ thunk_.

He whisks a knife out, teeth bared in rage. Juliette's eyes go wide as he flings the blade at the person in the street. They dodge, but not enough.

A female shriek pierces the air and the figure clutches their face, doubling over.

The Reaper reaches into his backpack and produces a long bladed scythe. Juliette screams and covers her head but he doesn't even look at her. He jumps off the deck and charges the wounded person staggering in the street, trying to get their weapon back up.

A truck suddenly rounds the corner, lights blinding him. For a second he falters. The archer recovers, taking their chance.

They raise their bow and fire

Nick rounds the corner and slams on the breaks the moment he sees two people in the middle of the road. It takes all of two seconds to realize what they're holding and what's happening right outside his house. Everything happens so fast all he sees is the archer duck and the Reaper stagger backwards, a long shaft of metal sticking out of his throat. He tumbles backwards and the archer starts to flee. A sudden gust of wind blows their hood off and Nick can see her clearly, illuminated in his headlights. She looks startled, ducking her dark head and taking cover behind the cars.

Nick leaps out of his truck, gun in hand.

"Stop, police!"

He spots the fleeing figure racing down the side walk.

"Stop!"

She raises her hand and suddenly a flash of light blinds him. He stumbles, the world all green and yellow spots for several moments. By the time his vision returns she's no where in sight. He would pursue her but he doesn't know where or if Juliette is alright.

"Juliette!" He shouts.

He runs towards the house. He slows as he passes the lawn. His blood runs colder than ice as he sees the tarnished scythe cast aside where the assailant fell back. A three foot long arrow is sticking out of his throat, blood gurgling out of the hole. A million things run through his head but one takes absolute priority.

Juliette.

"Juliette! Juliette!" He shouts.

He dashes up the stairs and through the open front door. She's on the floor, clinging to the sofa for support as she stares wide eyed up at Nick. He drops to his knees and wraps his arms around her and pulls her into a hug. She grips him feebly, shaking all over.

"Did you see that?" She chokes out.

"Yeah." Nick says, holding her close.

He doesn't know what else to say, all he can do is hold her close and pray.

Pray that this isn't the last straw.

An hour and a half later cops are swarming all over the place for what seems like the millionth time in the past couple months. Juliette had detached herself from Nick to be checked out by the paramedics and give a statement on what she saw while Nick is with Hank, Wu _and _Renard. Nick is only a little startled by the Captain's presence but not entirely surprised. This is the umpteenth time there's been an incident personally involving himself in the last couple months, far more than there really should be. He looked less than happy when he arrived but he took on that characteristic coolness once he saw the body and heard Nick out. The body in question is still on his lawn, the grass dyed red from the startling amount blood the guy bled. Nobody needs Harper to diagnose this one.

"Do you think this is the same killer as the previous murders?" Renard questions.

For all the clues in the world, Nick doesn't have any idea. There are too many suspects and strange people wandering in and out of this case its hard to tell who's doing what or who's even guilty. He thought he had his suspect, Alan the Grimm, pinned down but suddenly some strange archer woman and a Reaper walk out of the woodworks. Alan's prediction did come true though. More Reapers finally showed up. Fortunately, Hank steps in for his tongue tied-ness.

"It could be. The killer has already shown a proficiency in more than one weapon. And we found that broken arrow shaft at the scene of the last crime."

"What did the killer look like this time?"

The question is directed at Nick.

"A woman, five feet or so, dark hair, looked a bit foreign. And armed."

"Maybe we're dealing with an organization here?" Renard suggests.

Hank is loath to shrug but he does. There aren't any answers to give the Captain and he knows exactly what he's going to say.  
>"I want this case solved, gentlemen. At the very least I want suspects."<p>

Nick notices the look on Renard's face change for a moment as he glances at the Reaper's body. It's a mixture between hidden rage and…something a lot scarier.

"Finish up here and get the report back to the Precinct." Renard orders before heading off.

Hank abruptly turns to Nick. The look in his eyes is almost as scary as the one Renard had but there's no escaping it.

"Nick, what's going on?"

Nick freezes for a second, not adding to his credibility.

"…I don't know." It's an honest answer but he knows what Hank is asking for.

"You know something about this. Man, I can understand after all that's happened recently that you would be a bit shaken up but something is going on. I'm a detective too, remember?"

Nick looks almost mournfully at Hank.

If he can't tell Juliette how can he ever tell Hank what happening to him? They may work together but he has no idea…

"Hank, I've just been a little stressed out lately. I'm sorry."  
>Hank shakes his head.<p>

"That's not it. I don't know what's taken me so long to notice but it doesn't make sense. You know things. The way you react to people is strange. The way they react to _you_ is strange. I've seen how they look at you sometimes, all terrified. I thought it was all in my head at first or just normal cop paranoia. But now this. _Again._" He gestures to the body on the ground. "What's going on? Because I know something is up."

"Its nothing-" Nick starts but Hank cuts him off.

"This is nothing? This is the second guy with a _scythe_ that's attacked you. There are _arrows_ sticking out of your door for heaven's sake! That's not nothing!"

He gives bark of laughter, a nasty, mean sound but it speaks volumes about how well Nick _hasn't_ been hiding his secret lately. Hank must have been noticing this for a while now, the avoidance, and making substantial break-throughs in cases when he isn't around. And of course, how he instinctively knows someone is up to no good just by looking at them. And of course the attacks. He's sure there must be more but he just can't think of them right now.

Hank stares at him with hard, angry eyes that Nick has never seen directed at him before. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.  
>"I can't tell you."<p>

"Why not? We're partners, Nick." Hank challenges.

"Because you'll think I'm crazy."  
>"Try me."<p>

Nick opens his mouth-the words are all there, they've been there for ages. But he can't say them. If he had heard somebody say something like that before he knew all about Wesen he would have had them thrown in the looney bin. It's impossible to understand if you don't know. He'll sound absolutely mad. They'll think he's gone crazy from stress and too much hard work. Monroe was right, a normal person simply can't understand it. And he doesn't want to ruin their friendship with something like suppressed insanity. Alan had mentioned he met a Grimm in a mental institute. He wonders if it was forced or voluntary.

"I can't, Hank. Please, try to understand…"

"Nick. I want to understand but I can't if you don't tell me what's up."  
>Nick shakes his head and turns away.<p>

"I have to take care of Juliette. I'll see you at work tomorrow, okay?"

There's a moment of silence.

"Yeah, see you." Hank says reluctantly.  
>Nick starts to head off but glances back to watch Hank walk to his car. Nick can't help but feel the crush of something ending. Exhaustion kicks in as he trudges over to the ambulance, too tired to think about anything.<p>

The archer slinks down the darkened alleys, looking for a place where she can quickly fix herself up. She doesn't trust enough to go back to the room she rented. If he's looking for her he'll go there first. No doubt he didn't miss her presence in the city the moment she appeared. He never misses anything.

She wipes at her cheek again, feeling the blood drizzle down her neck and soak into her shirt. She makes an annoyed 'tsk' sound.

"Goddamn Reaper." She mutters.

The cocking of a gun behind her instantly grabs her attention. She stops dead, frozen. She doesn't even bother to look, simply holds her hands up weakly, prepared for the blow. When it doesn't come right away she feels anger at being toyed with flare inside her.

"Well, shoot already, would ya?"

"I don't intend to." A familiar voice says.

Keeping her hands raised, she slowly turns around to face the man. He's dressed in a suit, gun pointed at her but not very threateningly. She looks like a gutter rat with blood streaming down her face. Any outsider watching this exchange would think the situation would normally be reversed. She laughs, a slightly menacing sound but it doesn't faze the man at all.

"What do you want if not going to shoot me, _Captain?_" She says.

"I thought I told you never to come back." Renard says.

It's a statement, not a question.

"If it suffices, I have a good reason."

"I know what your reason is and I don't care for it much."

"You never did care much for what I had to say." She says.

Renard glares at her.

"I know why you're here and what you're going to do. This is my place and I don't like you and your kind in it. So finish what has been started and then get out or there will be consequences."

"Strange that you tolerate that Grimm so well then." She says, a question hidden in her words.

"Its none of your concern why I tolerate him." Renard looks at her with disgust. "I'm being more than generous by giving you time and allowing you to linger here. Now go."

She nods, bowing her head slightly at his good grace. She does recognize generosity when she sees it. Especially from something like him.

Renard lowers the gun and turns away, knowing she won't shoot him. He leaves the dirty alleyway without another word. Even after his departure his threat hangs heavy in the air. When he threatens consequence he follows through with them. Always. The woman casts one last look in his direction before slinking way. There's work to be done and done fast.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Nick wakes up like a dead man. His head feels like it's full of lead.

A Reaper came after Juliette. Or more specifically, came after him and Juliette got caught in the crossfire.

Again.

It's a worst case scenario and the only thing that stopped it from ending badly was the Archer. After all the commotion had died down Juliette told him all about what happened, how that woman saved her life. After that they both headed up to bed, too weary for much speculation and discussion on the matter.

Nick drags himself out of bed, makes some coffee and then hunts through his coat for Alan's number. When he finds the scrap of paper he quickly adds the number to his list of contacts then dials him up.

A groggy voice answers the phone.

"Morning. Who is this?"  
>"It's Nick."<br>"Its 6:30 is what it is." Alan mumbles back.

"Look, I need to talk to you."

"I'm busy this morning. Can we meet up later?"  
>"Sure. Why don't you meet me at the park around noon? " Nicks says.<p>

"Sounds good. Goodnight."

Nick tucks the phone away and prepares for work. He hopes he can get out of the house before Juliette wakes up. But he's not looking forward to seeing Hank after last night either. Then he'll have to confront Alan.

God, it's going to be one hell of a day.

* * *

><p>When Nick arrives at the Precinct he's confronted with more than one scared Wesen face in the halls, shrinking away as he approaches or nearly diving out of his way when they realize he's behind them. He ignores it all, making a beeline for his desk before he can get into any unnecessary trouble. To his surprise Hank is already there and he waves Nick over.<p>

"Hey, glad you're here because we've got some major hits." He says excitedly.

"Okay. What have you got?" Nick says carefully, nervous about Hank's suddenly happy mood compared to the previous day.

After last night he'd have thought he wouldn't want to talk to him again so soon or at least would have been curt until one of them caved. But he looks ready to discuss these new breakthroughs with gusto.  
>"You must have been here since three in the morning." Nick says.<p>

"One. But that doesn't matter. Listen to this. The man that attacked Juliette last night, Ross Rutka, was related to that Hulda guy that attacked you and your Aunt. They were cousins."

"Obviously shared the same line of work too." Nick notes, trying to not look as nervous as he feels.

"Yeah, but get this. He was checked into the 'Hallows Inn' downtown. I got the hotel records and it turns out he was there only a few months ago for two days, a week or so after you killed Hulda. So he was in town, possibly trying to get at you for killing his cousin."  
>"What brings you to that conclusion?"<p>

"Why else would he come to town, leave and then come again a couple months later to try and kill you? Maybe somebody stopped him before from being able to get at you and then he came back to make a reattempt."

Nick wants to drive the subject away from Reapers so he focuses on the other evidence they have.

"What about our arrow? Any prints?"

"Some fragments but nothing we can go on. Except we were lucky to get the end piece. It has a serial mark from the 'Blessed Archers' company based out of Canada. They produce custom bows and arrows. I got on the phone with one of their offices and they checked the serial. The one from Lazzar's murder scene and the one we got from Rutka are from the same batch."

"Which means we've got the same person."  
>"So that woman you saw last night is our perp. Finally broke her cover."<p>

"Did you manage to get a picture of the bow the arrows were made for?"

"No, but they told me it would have to be a heavy or a distance range bow to be able to fire those bolts. She might be an assassin for all we know because they said they're a standard fifty pounds, bow alone."  
>"For all we know." Nick mutters.<p>

The appearance of this new woman makes him want to talk to Alan all the more.

Could it be he's innocent? Or is he at work with someone else? He has a feeling that they're narrowing in on something, albeit, slowly. And they're not sure just what it is they're closing in on. But at least they've got a suspect. Or two.

He glances at Hank who is typing furiously away at his computer. He certainly looks like he pulled an all nighter, eyes somewhat glazed and skin sallow but it doesn't look like he's going to give in. And Nick knows from experience no amount of berating will change that. But he's happy Hank seems to have forgotten about their conflict last night. Maybe it wasn't a big deal, late at night, frayed nerves and all considering the situation. It does strange things to people.

All he has to do now is talk to Alan and get one step closer to solving this case. But first he wants to take a closer look at what Hank has dug up.

* * *

><p>Monroe walks cheerfully through the automatic doors into the grocery store. The place is rife with the smells of food, people, rot, plastics and preservatives. He heads straight for the produce section. The sickly sweet smell of fruits going off and the mouldy smell of old vegetables assaults his senses as he picks through the lettuce. It's a sorry lot of leaves but he happily retrieves a couple of good heads. He has dinner all worked out. The plans for the marvellous Caesar salad he's going to prepare roll through his head. Iceberg lettuce with shredded carrots, crème cheese and a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil…his mouth is watering at the thought of it.<p>

As he's happily mulling over the fabulous dinner, a putrid, curry smell hits him like an anvil to the face. It's so bad and so out of place he recognizes it instantly. It's much stronger than when he first smelled it, so much so that he has to cover his nose to stop from gagging. He looks around. Standing not ten feet from him is a man in a black trench coat and the source of the atrocious scent. He's staring at him wither piercing blue hues that resemble ice. Monroe's eyes widen and he feels his face shift against his will, Blutbad features pulled to the surface by those eyes. Monroe slaps a hand to his face, as if that would somehow cover it up. A wicked smile twists the Grimm's face as he lowers his head a bit in a predatory gesture. Nick has never made a face like that, not like some crazed killer. It's straight out of Gran's fairy tales. He recognizes that look all too well from his younger days, on the faces of his friends as they locate their prey. Monroe finds it hard to break the stare for a second but he manages to, turning around right then and there. He races from the store, leaving his groceries behind and running to his car as quickly as he can. He constantly keeps looking back over his shoulder to see if the Grimm is following. Once in his car he speeds out of the parking lot, nearly clipping two cars on his way. He drives the most indirect route he can think of, doubling back and circling blocks in hopes of losing the Grimm if he's somehow followed him. When he finally reaches home he dashes inside and locks the door, flipping the deadbolt and snatching his phone off the kitchen table, dialling Nick.

* * *

><p>Nick shuffles through print out after print out of documents, arranging them into some standing order. Everything to do with the mysterious woman from last night goes in the one pile and everything to do with the Reapers in another. Undeterminable information he sets in the middle of the two.<p>

On one hand he has four Wesen murders, a Grimm with more than enough reasoning to commit the crimes but no evidence to prove it. On the other he has a dead Reaper and a mysterious woman who murdered him but has since vanished into thin air.

He pins them all up on a corp board, winding string around the tacks to connect them all but all he ends up with is a jumble of string and paper. He leaves it up though, just in case.

"Nick, your phone's ringing."

He sighs and picks up the frantically buzzing phone.

"Burkhardt." He says more grumpily than he needs to.

"Dude, I just saw your Grimm in the supermarket." Monroe's shaken voice rattles over the phone.

Nick loses what little colour he may have in his face.

"You saw him?"

"Yeah! Scary as all hell."

"Did he see you?"

"Uh, yeah, he really saw me." Monroe says nervously. "Standing right goddamn next to me."

"Are you okay? Did he follow you?"

"Not yet."  
>Nick can hear the creak of blinds and imagines Monroe is peering out the window right now.<p>

"Okay, hold on a second."  
>He kills the call and quickly dials Alan's number. There's a short wait before he picks up.<p>

"Hey, Nick. What's up?" He asks cheerily.

"I know it's only ten o'clock but you want to meet up now? I've got something I want your opinion on. Where are you?"

"I'm on Hammer Street. I lost who I was looking for anyway." He says with a touch of irritation.

Nick recognizes the street name. It's only two blocks from where Monroe lives. He heaves a silent sigh of relief.

"Okay, lets meet in the park, its only three blocks from the Precinct."

"I know the one. See you in ten minutes." He says.

Nick hangs up and immediately calls Monroe back.  
>"You're lucky. He lost you but not by much. He was only two blocks from your house."<p>

Monroe sighs in relief but also in worry. He doesn't know what to say, just that he really doesn't ever want to run into that Grimm again. And that was way too close for comfort.

"Look, I'm meeting up with him right now. So…just be careful."

What else can Nick do but say be careful?

"I'll see you later." He says.  
>"Yeah." Monroe replies shakily.<p>

* * *

><p>Nick wants to get to the park before Alan but after jogging down the street he finds he's been beaten there. The Grimm is already waiting, leaning against a large oak to watch the traffic<p>

Alan waves him over with a smile. Nick strides up, keeping a neutral face. It doesn't seem to faze Alan at all.

"Hey." He smiles jovially.

"Hi." Nick manages to say with an attempt at civility.

"Let's walk. I have a question of my own I wanted to ask." Alan says.

Nick feels the question is deceptively loaded.

"How familiar are you with the Blutbaden in this area?"

"Why?" Nick asks, hiding his worry.

"I saw a Blutbad today. I haven't seen too many of them here so I was wondering what they're up to. There's a lot of parkland around here so it'd be easy for a large number of them to linger."

"I've pretty much scouted out all the areas Blutbaden run in. Had an encounter with one so I did it for safety's sake. There are no dangerous ones living here though. They're all reformed." Nick says, emphasizing the last word.

"As a cop, do you ever use the word 'reformed' for someone who has never committed any crimes? Reformed just means former killer. It doesn't exempt them from being punished for what they've done." Venom injects into Alan's voice, liquefied hatred as he speaks.

"Alan. Why do you hate Blutbaden so much? Why take out your anger on ones that aren't a threat?"

"Aren't a threat _anymore_." Alan clarifies. "More so than any other creature I've ever encountered they have the potential to be trouble. They're dangerous killers. All of them have killed at least one human in their lifetimes, there's no doubting it."

"You didn't answer the question. I've run into plenty of creatures that have the potential for big trouble but they aren't. They choose to not be like that. Just like we as humans have a choice."

Nick remembers Charlotte the elderly looking but in truth not so old Spinnetodd. He can't imagine what she went through to go against her strongest survival instincts.

"Why do you have such a vendetta against them?"

Alan eyes Nick with cold fury and suspicion.

"You really want to know? I'm surprised you don't have an issue with Reapers after what they did to your Aunt."

Nick swallows hard. He _does_ have an issue with Reapers. He just hasn't had another run in with one to justify it yet.

"I don't want you threatening any peaceful people around here. I'm a cop and it's my job to keep the populous safe from killers, Wesen or not. That includes you Alan."

He laughs, a mean and cold sound.

"You're a strange one Nick. For a cop and for a Grimm. You seem to fail on both accounts. You won't arrest those that need to be and you won't kill the ones that threaten people. I thought all cops were trigger happy fools."

Nick pauses, controlling his rising temper.

"Why do you hate them?" He asks again with forced calm.

Alan manages to keep his voice surprisingly even when he speaks next.

"Because they killed my wife. They tore her apart. She never did anything to them but they butchered her."

His voice cracks but he keeps talking.

"You should have seen the house when they finished with it. You would have thought we painted the place red. It took a week for the cops to find all of her!" He spits. "That's why I told you to stay with your girl or she might end up like that."

Nick doesn't even want to think about that. He's been working so hard to keep Juliette…he doesn't even want to think about it.  
>Alan's eyes chill even further.<p>

"It took me decades to hunt them all down. But that's done now. The point is that you don't trust Wesen. Ever. They can't be trusted and they will never be capable of it."

"Have you ever actually known any Wesen?" Nick asks, irritated.

"I've met plenty of respectable Wesen. Everything from the pleasant Gefrierengeber to fiery but harmless Daemonfeuer. None of them have come any where near the ferocity of Blutbaden."

Nick stares at him. There's something wrong with this man. Though Nick is no stranger to Blutbaden fury he refuses to stereotype them. How can he when he's friends with one? For heaven's sake, the man was feeling bad for hurting some thugs that beat him up when he was guarding Marie. And Hap, Angelina's brother was amazingly non aggressive. Nick didn't even feel a hint of threat from the guy.

"Do you know anything about a Lӧwen woman that was killed yesterday?"

Alan frowns at him and it seems in genuine confusion.

"I had nothing to do with her death."

"And what about all the others?" Nick challenges. "You either killed them or know who did."  
>His eyes harden, cold as hunks of ice as he stops and turns to face Nick full on.<br>"You can't deny they deserved to die. That Lausenschlange killed thirty children from here to Mexico. That Fuchsbau was an organ seller, you must have known that for he knew of you. Terrified him well enough despite leaving him alive.

"And what about Carver Burks? What was his heinous crime?"

Nick asks the questions though he has a pretty good idea what it was.

"What wasn't his crime." Alan hisses

There's obviously nothing he can say to reason with this man and before he loses him entirely he wants to ask his question..

"You know who killed the Lӧwen though. Do you recognize this?"

Nick reaches into his pocket and pulls out the bag with the broken arrow he retrieved from 'Evidence' before leaving.  
>Alan's eyes widen as he looks at the arrow, taking it gingerly.<p>

"Where did you find this?"  
>"Under the Lӧwen's bed. We found an identical one in a Reaper's throat. It's not yours, is it?"<p>

"A Reaper, is it?" Alan says and shakes his head. "It belongs to a woman I thought was dead. But clearly _isn't_."

Nick doesn't say anything to that but it confirms his suspicions about the archer woman.

"Who is she?"

Alan looks to Nick again, eyes not cold but deceptive.

"I can't tell you that. But you should be careful. If she's around there's something wrong. She's dangerous. You should watch out."

He starts to walk away.

"Wait!"

"I have nothing more to say to you. There are more important things to do right now."

"You murdered all those people in cold blood!"

"Try to focus on the bigger picture right now, Nick. I'm a Grimm, that's what I do. But if that woman is around you better be careful. Reapers follow her like the goddamn plague."

That's the last he says.

Nick watches him walk away. And the most galling thing is he lets him do it.

Life just got more complicated. But lately, when has it ever gotten easier?

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

The two Reapers steal through the darkened forest, feet hitting the leaves with barely a sound. It awakens in them the days of old, the long travel, days under the canopy of the forest, all in search of a Grimm. The age old hunt that makes their blood boil and their hearts race.

The old days are gone though, it's a new world with too much that is different. Carrying out a simple execution isn't so simple anymore. There are witnesses, cops and bystanders to consider. Throw it back some hundred years and everyone would be racing to get out of their way. Even the local magistrates didn't go after Reapers for fear of the ramifications. Now it's so different.

"Where are you going, Reapers?" A voice high above growls.

Both Reapers stop and look up. In the dark it's hard to see but they can make out a figure perched on a branch some forty feet above their heads. They're holding a bow in their hand, loaded and ready to fire at them.

The lead Reaper snarls.

"Goddamn Grimm, hiding in the trees like a squirrel."

"Poor Reapers, running on the ground like dogs. Care to tell me where you're going?"

It'd be impossible to mistake the voice for a man's, the trace of foreignism clear in her tones. The Reaper snarls at her impetus attitude.

"I don't recall that being any of your business, Grimm." The Reaper replies.

The figure shrugs.

"Maybe not, but this certainly is."

The Reapers dodge as arrows begin to fly.

* * *

><p>It's getting late, nearly time to start cooking supper but the problem has being bugging Monroe for ages. The mailbox head is loose, wobbling whenever he touches it. He hates things to be broken for too long so before he knows it he's heading down the drive, screwdriver in hand to repair the faulty screws. Nick had called him after lunch and given him a full update on what had been happening. He'd told him all about last night with the Reaper and the Archer. They'd bounced some ideas off each other until he told him about his and Alan's conversation. It had left Monroe with less than a secure feeling. Nick hung up but not before telling him to be careful, for Alan and the Archer. He's seen Alan but Nick's lacking description of this woman could describe half of the women in the city.<p>

He's halfway done fixing the mailbox when the smell of blood wafts though the chilly evening air. He peers into the semi-dark, breathing deeply. Somebody comes stumbling out of the woods across the road. They trip, falling down the small hill and landing in a heap on the sidewalk. Monroe drops the screwdriver and runs to where they are. As he approaches he realizes it's a woman. She tries to clamber to her feet but collapses face first in the dirt, breathing hard.

"Whoa, whoa. Are you okay?" Monroe says as he kneels beside her

She looks up, dark eyes squinting in pain. Monroe suddenly recognizes the watermelon and basil scent emanating off her. He gets up and takes a step back.

"Goddamnit." She whispers before taking a strangled gasp and passing out.

Monroe cannot believe what is lying right in front of him.

This is not his year. Or even his week. He looks down at the unconscious Grimm covered in what is clearly her own blood.

_Another _Grimm. Three in one year, that has got to be a record considering he's made it for decades without running into _one_.

He could walk away, pretend he never saw anything. But he can't just _leave_ her bleeding on the sidewalk. What if something is coming to kill her? What if coyotes attacked her?

Yeah right, but still. Nick wouldn't forgive him if he left her. _He _wouldn't be able to forgive himself. Who leaves injured people on the sidewalk? But this is a Grimm. So what, he's going to bring her into his house? The thought of bringing a wild tiger home is more appealing. He takes a step back. He can call an ambulance. Yeah, how is he going to explain that? An injured Grimm in the hospital with no protection. He remembers what happened with Nick's Aunt.

Nick would never forgive him.

"I've gone mad." He mutters.

He goes to the woman. She's so small he can easily carry her in his arms. She groans but remains unconscious. He gets her into the house, hoping none of the neighbours noticed. Inside her lays her on the couch and takes a brief inventory of her injuries. Her shoulder is obviously badly injured because blood soaks her coat and her shirt. There's also a nasty gash in her calf that dyes her jeans red.

He calls Nick, watching her the whole time in case she spontaneously recovers. He hates to call Nick this late because he knows he'll get in trouble from Juliette but there's no way he's not bringing in another Grimm to help him deal with this. And besides, he never cared if he bothered Monroe so what the heck.

"Yes?" Nick says tentatively, as if expecting the worst.

"I've got a very injured Grimm on my couch and I think you should get down her before she wakes up."  
>"A Grimm on your couch? Wait, <em>she?<em>" Nick asks, shock clear in his voice.

"Yeah, just get down here quickly."

"Wait, Monroe. Does she have a bow?"

"No but she's pretty beat up. It's too late to throw her on the front lawn, Nick. Just come quickly."

He hangs up and retrieves a first aid kit from the closet and a damp rag from the kitchen. He sets out all of his supplies on the coffee table and tentatively kneels by her.

Her shallow breathing stays the same as he unzips her coat and is confronted with some very large knives tucked in on the inside. He carefully removes them, setting them out of her reach should she wake up and decide that the best course of action would be to kill him.

He pulls the coat back enough to get a look at the wound. Her shirt is stuck to her skin with sweat and blood around her shoulder. He manages to ease her arm out of the sleeve but not without a grimace from her. Whatever attacked her cut clean through her clothing and the flesh beneath it. He peels back the fabric of her shirt, exposing the wound. It's nasty, long but fortunately not too deep. Its not bleeding anymore but the spilt blood is still wet on her skin. He's never treated anything this serious and is about to cave and call an ambulance but Nick will be here soon. What if it's absolutely not the right thing to do? This is a Grimm after all. But what if there's infection?

Monroe grumbles to himself, debating and arguing separate points as he gathers a jar of honey from the kitchen. As he deals with the excess blood the Grimm winces and moans but thankfully doesn't wake up. He applies a thin layer of honey (a great anti-septic) and wraps the bandage firm but not too tight around her shoulder. After he's satisfied that its done properly he turns his attention to her leg that is still bleeding but is a much smaller wound. Unfortunately, there's a slice of metal embedded in her flesh. There's no way he's going to be able to roll the jeans up to get it out. Retrieving some scissors he cuts across her shin above the wound and peels the blood soaked denim off. He hopes she didn't like those jeans too much which is a ridiculous thought in retrospect. He can't tell how deep the metal is in there but there's only one fix and that is to get it out. He wonders how she could even walk with her leg in this shape.

Tweezers in hand he carefully latches onto the sliver of metal. He counts to three than pulls fast. The slice of metal, all three inches of it slides out quick along with a renewed gush of blood.

She sits bolt upright, clutching her leg and shouting out.

"Ow, Dannazione! Cazzo che male!"

Monroe backs up across the room, still holding the three inches of metal he pulled from her leg. She looks up and freezes, eyes locking with Monroe's. He quickly puts the metal down and holds up his hands, trying to look as non-threatening as possible.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just taking care of your wounds." He says, heart racing.

Her glazed eyes look down to where blood is drizzling from her leg onto her hands. She tentatively touches her shoulder as she looks around in mild confusion.

"Blutbad, who are you?" She says, voice slightly marred by an Italian accent.

Well that's a start, at least she hasn't tried to kill him yet. Monroe prays Nick comes quickly.

"Monroe. Don't worry, I'm not going to eat you."

He mentally slaps himself. You never bring up the 'e' word.

"I was just fixing you up. You were bleeding pretty badly. You were on the side of the road so I thought..."

Her eyes are narrowed as she looks at him somewhat suspiciously.

"My friend will be here soon, he's a Grimm so...I'm not going to kill you."

What else can he say?

"You're friends with a _Grimm_?" She says skeptically. She's not buying that one. Few people would actually believe that and Monroe would think them a fool to believe him at face value.

She tries to stand but her knees buckle and she doubles over.

"Goddamn Reapers." She cringes.

"You're not well enough to stand. Just...don't kill me and I'll take care of your leg."

"I was surprised to wake up. And all my knives are over there so I'd have a difficult time killing you even if I wanted to. Which I don't." She adds.

Monroe has no doubt she could easily strangle him with her bare hands but for all the idiotic things he's done in the past months he goes to her anyway. Her arm is injured after all so she'd have trouble. The question is why is he taking care of her if he's so worried she's going to kill him. Please, Nick, hurry up, he prays.

Monroe carefully approaches, double checking the knives are out of reach before he crouches by the couch. She watches him intently.

"Just lie back."

She lies back but is still very much alert as Monroe continues to treat the wound, wiping away the blood. Fortunatly, it doesn't require stitches so he goes right ahead and applies the honey to the cut.  
>"Honey?" She says through gritted teeth.<p>

"Yeah, speeds healing and prevents infection."

"Huh, never heard of that before." She muses

For some reason Monroe is pleased he was able to teach something to a Grimm. It makes her less scary. He carefully wraps a bandage around the wound, tying it in place.

"Are you some sort of herbalist of something? I'm going to go ahead and assume you're Weider." She says.

"Yeah, I know a little something about herbs. Best medicine out there."

"My Aunty was great with herbs. She believed enough vinegar could have cured the bubonic plague."

Monroe can't help but smile at that.

"My grandma was a great believer in vinegar too."

Monroe almost can't believe he's having this conversation with a Grimm he just dragged in off the street. It's slightly ludicrous and a lot weird. About as weird as inviting a Grimm in for a beer but whatever. Why is it that all his childhood assumptions are constantly being challenged by strange Grimm? In the brief silence he can hear a car pull up in the drive.

"That's Nick. He's the Grimm."

He heads for the door but looks back at the Grimm on his couch.

"I'm sorry but I don't know your name."  
>"I'm sorry, it's Antonia." She smiles. "It's nice to meet you Monroe."<p>

The civility is amazing, Monroe muses.

A knock at the door has Monroe going to let Nick. Nick looks so anxious and almost relieved that Monroe opens the door.

"Is she here?"

"Yeah, she's awake."  
>"And you're alive?"<p>

Monroe pulls him inside, whispering.

"She's the one I smelled at that Lӧwen's murder. She was there, by the window."

Nick steps into the house, walking ahead of Monroe into the living room. His eyes fall on the woman on Monroe's couch. It's definitely the same woman that killed the Reaper outside his house. The feeling he gets from being near her is familiar, the same as Alan. Nick notices the vast array of knives that have been set on the coffee table on the other side of the room. She was obviously armed to the teeth but didn't kill Monroe anyway. And she's certainly not looking bloodthirsty.

But unlike Alan she looks distrustful as she watches him, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Since neither Grimm seems to be capable of taking the initiative Monroe steps in.

"Nick, this is Antonia. This is Nick."

"Nick Burkhardt." He says, reaching forward to shake her hand.

"Antonia Guerriero. Just call me Toni though."

With a name like that and her obvious accent Nick is compelled to ask.

"Where are you from?"

"Italy. But that is a long time ago. Never could quite lose the accent."

With the causal remarks of her voice she has Nick and Monroe off balance, especially Nick. This being his second Grimm and much different than the first he's surprised by the dramatic difference in personality. Monroe has given up judging at this point.

"Do you know a man named Alan Flores?" Nick questions, the first thing that comes to mind and his cop mentality kicking in.

She rolls her eyes and claps a hand to her forehead.

"Do I know him? That's why I'm here, looking for him. What's happened?"

Nick explains the murders, omitting the Lӧwen because she could potentially be the murderer and he doesn't want to set her off. Her mental state is still under scrutiny.

She sighs after he explains it all.

"Axes sounds likes him."

"So you know Alan?"

"Oh yes, we've known each other ever since he became a Grimm. I you're wondering he's always been like that, off the deep end. He's been running back and forth across the county exterminating Wesen wherever he goes for the better part of twenty years. That's after he got out of the mental hospital."

Now Nick knows why Alan met that Grimm in a mental institute. Its an answer that raises more questions that true answers.

"What was the name of that Blutbad again?" Toni asks.

"Carver Burks. Was he one of the Blutbaden that killed his wife?"

"He told you. Yes. Tina Feyton, Anthony Sornsen, Richard Hull, Tabitha Johnson and Carver Burks where the Blutbaden that killed her. He's been hunting them for over two decades, ever since he became a Grimm. It's possessed him. He's mad with it. If he sees a Blutbad, reformed, wild, innocent or guilty it doesn't matter, he'll go after them." She looks at Monroe with scrutiny but doesn't say anything more.

Monroe has been listening to this exchange with interest. Nick had told him a little about this Alan but this Blutbaden thing comes out of left field.

"Did you say Richard Hull?"

"Yes. Did you know him?"

"Vaguely, he was in the same dorm in collage. How did he die?"

"It was deemed a suicide when he 'jumped' off the fifty-second floor of the office building he worked at."

Monroe can't say he's unduly surprised. Richard was even more of a loose cannon than he was in his younger years.

Toni takes a moment and looks Nick up and down.

"You're a cop, right?"

"Yes."

She glances at Monroe.

"Why would a Grimm like you be with a Blutbad?" She asks.

"Maybe it's because I'm not a cold hearted killer?" He says sarcastically.

"Well I can see that!" She says. "I'm just curious why a Grimm in Vormund territory is still alive." She says almost casually but the her curiosity and caution are obvious.

The word means nothing to Nick but it strikes a cord with Monroe.

"A Vormund?" Monroe says quietly. "I didn't know there was one in Portland."

Toni nods.

"He's tricky. He likes to keep a low profile." She says, looking back at Nick.

"You're a cop and you don't know who the Vormund is? You aren't on his side?"

"I don't even know _what_ a Vormund is!"

Her suspicion seems to lessen a bit.

"Is that true?" She looks at Monroe.

"I don't think he is. Or at lest I think I would notice a change like that."

"Would someone please fill me in?" Nick says with a touch of exasperation.

He's so sick and tired of not knowing what people are talking about. He's got to go and learn German.

"A Vormund is a 'Guardian.' They're rare." Monroe says.

"And very dangerous." Toni picks up. "They claim a territory and keep it as their own. They take charge of everything within it. Most Wesen don't even know they're under rule unless they step over the line. They may prefer to operate in secret but they are very much in control of the situation."  
>She directs her attention solely on Nick, eyes cold and piercing like Alan's.<p>

"You truly aren't in league with him then?"

"No. Why would I be? If he's dangerous I want nothing to do with him."

"It's a small miracle to find a Grimm _alive_ in Vormund territory. They side with Reapers and in general are not very open to our presence. But it's not unheard of for them to take Grimms as pets."

"Pets?"

Nick is somewhat appalled at the terminology.

"Oh yes, for a Vormund to take control of a Grimm is not only an accomplishment but a power play. It gives them an unbelievable edge with the competition they face."

"Who is it?"

She looks so seriously at him, debating whether or not to tell him.

"You cannot let him know that you know who he is. If he's let you live this long and has not made you aware of his existence then something is up. This one is deceptive and very cunning. You can't tell where his motives lie. You must be careful."

"Who is he?" Nick repeats anxiously.

"He's Captain of Portland's PD. Sean Renard."

Nick has to think on her words, not quite believing them. When he finally does find his tongue the words splutter out.

"He is not. There's no way. His face has never changed!"

"Not all Wesen can be seen by Grimm eyes. A few have developed ways to hide even from us. I've only met a few Vormunds but enough to know they are dangerous. I've never once seen their true face."  
>"Then how do you know what he is?" Nick questions, disbelieving.<p>

Nick thinks he might be developing a trust issue.

"I know him personally. But more importantly _he_ knows _you_ are a Grimm. If he hasn't killed you yet then he has something planned. He wants to control you."  
>Nick is still trying to wrap his mind around the fact his Captain, a man he's worked with for six months since becoming a Grimm, is a Wesen and a dangerous one at that. One that's trying to control him. He almost can't quite believe it and not sure that he actually will. She must be lying. There is no way he's a Wesen. It's just not possible. Not possible.<p>

Nick doesn't want to face the possibility he's been working with a Wesen and didn't know about it for six months. It's just another thing to be hyper paranoid about. The Grimm life is an exhausting one, no wonder Marie got cancer.

"What even happened to you? How did you injure yourself?" Nick says irritably.

"Trust me, _I _didn't do this to myself. It was Reapers. There's a bloody lot of them around here too. They're after you with a vengeance. I've been offing them whenever I get the chance but there's still a lot."

"You killed them?"

"Why would I leave them alive?"

"And…where are they now?" Nick asks tentatively.

The thought of rogue Reapers running around when he's not near Juliette isn't exactly comforting and it makes him want to get back home as fast as he can.

"Uh…there's a ravine. About half a mile that way in the woods. I don't think they'll be bothering anyone anymore."

She says it so innocently and normally it's enough to give Nick shivers. Despite her seeming a bit like him there's still something that reminds him markedly of Alan.

Nick wants to bring the conversation back to Alan, back to territory he can understand better. She doesn't seem in good disposition to the other Grimm so maybe she can help him.

"There was one other murder. A Lӧwen woman by the name of Lazzar. We found one of your arrows there and Monroe picked up your scent in the room. Did you kill her?"

"No, I was there though. It was a Reaper, Rutka. I do believe he's dead, unless paramedics were able to recessitatate him?"

"No, he's quite dead." Nick assures her, an image of his death mask flashing before his eyes.

"Good. I don't know why but he was sent to kill the Lӧwen. She must have been doing something pretty serious to get a Reaper on her tail. I was hunting him and I tried to stop it but I was a little late."

Nick believes her, it follows since her scent is only at the window and not anywhere else.

She sighs, getting to her feet, a bit wobbly but she stays up.  
>"Uh, I don't think you should be standing yet." Monroe says.<p>

"It's fine. I'm a quick healer. Besides, I need to get out of here. I left my bow in the woods and I want that back. Also, do you happen to know where Alan is? I'd like to get him out of here as quickly as possible if you don't mind. I'd like to take you too but I figure you're pretty entrenched here."  
>"Yeah, a little." Nick says, thinking of the million and one reasons why he can't leave Portland.<p>

"He said he's staying at the Renaissance Inn. I've got his number."

Nick gives her the number and she commits it to memory. She repeats it as she heads for the door, the men a step behind her.

"I'll get the bastard and we'll be out of your hair. You take care of yourself."  
>She opens the door but turns around and grips Nick's shoulder hard.<p>

"You cannot let the Vormund know that you know what he is. No matter what. It'll be your end. Keep your eyes open, would you? You're in danger."

Nick nods and she redirects her attention to Monroe.

"Thank you. You saved my life, probably against your better judgement too."

"You have no idea." Monroe laughs.

"I owe you. I hope I'll be able to repay you." She says with a smile.

She holds out her hand and Monroe takes it. They shake hands and nod. Monroe can't quite believe what has been happening in his life lately.

"You weren't what I was expecting." Nick says.

"Neither were you."

She nods once more to both of them then walks across the road with only a small limp. She disappears into the woods like a ghost. The two men watch her until she's out of sight, both remaining silent before Monroe speaks up.

"You know this reminds me of that 'Old MacDonald had a Farm' song. Here a Grimm, there a Grimm, everywhere a Grimm Grimm."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Alan lets himself into his room, rubbing the grime from his face. He just spent three hours trudging through the woods, looking for Blutbaden and coming up empty. He throws his coat on the bed.

It's been a long day.

Every hour after lunch has been spent scouting out the surrounding area for potential threats and dangerous Wesen, all the while trying to track down where that Blutbad went. He didn't find him for all his labour though, nothing but minor Wesen and nothing significantly dangerous enough to waste his time on.

It's frustrating, knowing that there is one of those beasts around but he can't get at it and end its miserable existence. He flops down on the bed and closes his eyes. He'll try again tomorrow, too soon it will be time to get out of here and move on anyway. It's not safe for him to stay in one area for too long where he's actively hunting. And anyway, Nick the kind and gentle Grimm is here so really it's not his territory to be prowling around in. Even if that Grimm does get himself killed it's not his problem. He had liked him though. They would have made a great team if they had similar personalities, what with his advantage as a cop and all. He sighs and hauls himself up, mourning a great loss when there's a knock on the door.

* * *

><p>Toni locates the hotel Renaissance. It's a big place but for a Grimm it takes no effort at all to locate Alan's room.<p>

It's the knocking that's the hard part. She's hasn't seen him in a year, she's been keeping close tabs on him but never actually talking to him. The situation is finally desperate enough to warrant some action on her part. When he gets into a kill streak like this he can get carried away far too easily. And after her little chat with new Grimm Nick it seems its already gotten out of control.

She pounds on the door with her fist.

"It's me, Alan. Open up."

"I don't know anyone by the name '_me_'." Comes the muffled reply.

Toni feels her unholy anger rising hot in her chest. She has no patience for this man.

"You know who I am so open up before I kick the goddamn door in!"

There's a pause before the door opens and Alan appears, looming tall in the doorway. Toni's always been small and it's worked to her advantage. Few savage, six feet tall Wesen actually consider that this speck of a woman can tear them to shreds.

"What are you doing here, Tonia?"

"Better question: What are you doing here? You know what kind of territory this is."  
>"I'm well aware."<br>"Then do you have a death wish?"

"No. You know perfectly well why I'm here and it's the same reason you're here. Have you met him? There's something not right with that guy. Are you going to kill him?"

Toni looks at him with a glare.

"I think the question is have _you_ met him? Because if you have you wouldn't exactly think this guy is being controlled. He's a little soft for that it seems, though no doubt the Vormund is trying to gain control over him."  
>"Are you sure? He's certainly acting strange enough for it."<br>Nick doesn't fit the description of a Vormund Grimm. They're a hassle and none too friendly to outsider Grimms. He didn't have the look or the attitude, not drone-like or vicious enough to have anything to do with a Vormund. Though he better watch his back if he wants to keep it that way.

"Can I come in?"  
>Alan lets her in almost begrudgingly but opens the door for her none the less. She notices that the bed is covered in maps. A quick look confirms her suspicions that they are of Portland and the surrounding area. And they're quite detailed too.<p>

It's not a good sign. Alan's obsessive compulsive disorders involving Wesen more frequently than not ended up getting out of control and that's a problem for all involved.

"Who are you looking for? A Blutbad?"

"You mean '_what_' am I looking for. And it just so happens I am. I have a bad feeling about him."

"When don't you have a bad feeling about a Blutbad? Or any other Wesen for that matter. They're not all terrifying monsters you know."

"At least I'm doing what I'm supposed to do. Are you still chasing Reapers from east to west?"

"At least it's a sure fire that they're going to try and kill us. Do you have any idea how many of them are in this city? And I don't think all of them are after this new Grimm. You're notorious enough to warrant half a dozen Reapers chasing you down."

"Well, its certainly not a problem with you skulking around now is it? You seem to be taking care of them fine by yourself."

Alan looks at her suspiciously.

"What's wrong with you? You're moving strangely.

Toni stiffens at his observation. Her shoulder and leg are burning murderously but she's had worse and lived so she refuses to pay them any mind. His eyes are fixed on her, abnormally blue in the strange hotel lighting

"It's nothing. Just a little scuffle with some Reapers left me with a few cuts."

"Lets see then. Scythe wounds, right?"

"That's not why I'm here." She bristles.

"Then why are you here?"

"To get you out of here. That Vormund is going to rip you to shreds if you stay any longer. You're already jeopardizing his plans and he's not too pleased with it."

"So you had a little chat? Let him come. I'm not leaving until I find my target."  
>"The Blutbad? You know this is an obsession, don't you?"<br>"I want to kill him."

"You want to kill everything." She mutters angrily.

At one time Toni had understood his murderous rage. She had her own hatred and she held onto it for the longest time. But that was a long time ago, not now. Not anymore.

She's been down this road with Alan more than once, the obsession, the hunt and then the kill or the hospital, depending on the outcome. It never seemed to fix him, no matter how many scars or terrible things he did, it never ended. She wonders why she even came to see him. Let Renard kill him, there's no fixing this broken man.

"Well, have fun with that then. I'm leaving."  
>"Afraid of a little fight? Still not interested in a little hunt? You're a total failure of a Grimm."<p>

"And you're a total lunatic."

She leaves, closing the door quietly and retreating from the place.

Alan stares at the door for some time before migrating to the window to watch her walk across the parking lot and get in her car.

He doesn't like her, not especially, the only reason he even communicates with her anymore is because she's till a strong Grimm. She's no one to mess with. But she's a hassle to have around. He had warned Nick about her and he seemed to have taken the warning seriously. He wonders how she met the other Grimm and just what they talked about. She's not like him but she's certainly not like Nick either. Anyways, he didn't want her to be messing around where he's hunting. She has her own agenda and her own set of problems following her around. And he doesn't need her lectures. But her standing with the local Vormund might just give him enough time to complete this last job and get out before he finds him. And if not, he's only mortal. He folds up the maps and tucks them away in his pack when there's another knock at the door.

"Maid service." A chipper voice responds.

Alan never ordered any extra amenities wherever he stays, it's the fastest way to get yourself killed.

"I didn't order a maid so you can leave." He shouts.

He hears footsteps retreating and relaxes a bit. There's no such thing as being too careful in this line of work. After brushing his teeth he contemplates putting on the TV for some mindlessness (a rare thing in his life) but he rejects it and opts for a book, a medical diary from the 1800's on common and not so common cures. The thing is nearly two hundred years old and has grown so tattered from the many hands that have touched it he was forced to have it photocopied and rebound, storing the original safely with the other Grimmoires. Everything in his collection is so old he hardly touches the stuff for fear it will fall apart. It's a good thing he rarely runs into anything new these days that would drive him to consult the books on. His family had been Grimms it seemed since the dawn of time.

As he skims over 'preventative measures for smallpox' he hears a slight clicking at the door. He pauses, listening closely to the continual clicking until he realizes what it is. He leaps off the bed and dives for his bag underneath. He manages to wrestle a spiked mace (first thing he could get his hands on) just as the door bangs open, a blur of fur and claws zipping across the room. He ducks and rolls off the bed, landing on his feet and darting across the room. The creature lunges on the bed where he was, tearing at the sheets before it realizes he isn't there under its claws. It stops long enough to spin around, crouched on the bed, predatory. Alan gets a good look at it, all dark red fur and pointed fangs. A Blutbad, a female at that. She looks royally pissed but just laying eyes on her ignites Alan's age old rage. They're playing on the same battlefield now, equally hating each other. He grips his mace, ready for her to lunge. She grinds her teeth, her own blood running between them. She seems to be waiting almost, not attacking head on but analyzing the situation. It's a mistake. Alan makes his move, whirling in on a side step and swinging the mace at her. She leaps away but the spikes make contact with her back, ripping flesh and splattering blood on the wall. She howls in pain, tumbling off the bed. Alan closes the gap between them, attacking again but she just manages to evade, the weapon thumping against the ground hard. For a second Alan is defenceless and she makes her move. She tackles him with all the force she can muster, sinking her claws into his weapon arm. He grunts and spins, trying to shake her loose but only succeeds in driving her claws deeper into his flesh. She takes her advantage and bats the weapon out of his hand and grips tighter, his blood flowing over her fingers. Weapon-less and with the Blutbad dug into his arm he's at her mercy. Not that he'll let it stay that way.

"Murderer!" She screams, slamming him into the wall.  
>He grapples with her, trying to loosen her but she holds on tight, throwing him to the floor with one good move. She's stronger than he expected, rage and adrenaline fueling her bloodlust. Fatigue wears on him, making him slow. He scrambles, drawing a knife from his belt and countering her clawing hands. Blood flies as she attacks blindly, oblivious to the knife wounds beginning to cover her arms. She flings herself at him, using her whole body to smother him.<p>

Alan collapses under her weight as she forces him to the floor. He tries to bring the knife up to attack but she grabs his wrist and slams it to the ground three times fast. He cringes as something snaps in his hand, forcing him to release the knife. She grabs him by the collar and slams him into the ground again.

"You goddamn murderer!"

With one hand free and her eyes on his he quickly sucker punches her in the gut, doubling her over momentarily, long enough for him to reach his discarded knife. She howls in rage as he snatches it up. He twists and rams the blade between her ribs, all the way up to the hilt. She lurches, coughing up blood all over him. For a tenuous moment she stares at him, eyes wide in death. He almost believes she's going to attack again. She opens her mouth, blood trickling over her lips before she collapses on top of him.

With a grunt he heaves her dead body off him, clawing his way on to the bed and clutching his arm where her claws sunk in. He can hear a commotion out in the halls and knows it won't be long before he sees Nick again.

* * *

><p>Toni is on her way out, ready to leave this crazy town. She feels she owes that Blutbad and Nick but she can't stay around any longer. She'll be killed if she does and she values her life a lot more than Alan seems to value his. She's turning a street when siren wails pierce the air. She pulls over as an ambulance and several police cars zoom back the way she came. She watches them head down the street, back to the hotel. Her instincts are prickling and she sighs. She hates having a conscience.<p>

Pulling a very illegal U-turn she heads back to the hotel.

* * *

><p>Nick stomps up to the scene, furious. He'd gotten the call hardly half and hour before dinner, forcing him to quickly scarf down some salad before heading over to the hotel Renaissance. Low on energy and not all that enthused to hear the location he lost what little temper he had when Wu mentioned that the <em>victim<em> was a man named Flores. The whole drive over he was fuming, nothing in coherent just impotent anger. Hasn't his night been hectic enough? In the parking lot ablaze with lights he spots Alan at the ambulance being taken of care of. He wants nothing more than to hear from him what happened but that's not possible right now. Paramedics are like rabid dogs when interrupted in their healing. Hank isn't on the scene yet so Wu takes him up to the room.

"Our potential victim here, Mr. Flores said a maid came to his door but he turned her away and she came back five minutes later to attack him. The manager confirmed she isn't one of his staff. They had a little skirmish before he fatally stabbed her in self defence. He claims to not having known her."

In the room there are splatters of blood on the walls and bed but it doesn't look too serious in comparison to the other murders. Nick eyes the body sprawled face down on the floor by the bed. She's dressed in a maid's uniform that is thoroughly soaked with blood on her chest. The uniform is ripped on her lower back, the flesh underneath torn and flayed. The knife is still embedded all the way up to the hilt in her chest, just below her heart. The handle is wooden and carved with a long horse's face but it has sharp teeth. It certainly looks like something that a Grimm would have. Looking at her there's something about her face and dark red hair that reminds Nick of Angelina. Which doesn't give him the best feeling in the world. Alan has caused enough trouble to have Wesen coming after him which not only makes Nick's job more difficult it also makes his life more complicated. And since this is Alan's room he must be keeping his weapons here.

"Were any other weapons found?"  
>"Nope, nothing but the killing weapon. We've searched the whole room and the place is clean."<br>Nick sighs in exasperation.

Where the hell did 'Toni the Grimm' go? Wasn't she supposed to deal with him?

"I'm going to go down and talk to the victim. Make sure Hank takes a look at this when he gets here."

He returns to the lobby and back outside. Weaving his way though the crowded parking lot he makes for the ambulance off to the side. Inside is Alan, looking pale, skin somewhat gray from his wounds. The paramedics seem to be done with him. Aside from the bandages around his arms there are scratches across his face and a bruise on his temple. But it doesn't look to be his first injuries. His torso is covered in pale and some red scars that look old and painful. It's obvious he's been at the Grimm thing for a while. Nick remembers the doctor commenting on the many scars that Aunt Marie had. It makes him wonder if he'll end up like that someday. He wouldn't be surprised, he's well on his way already with Blutbad, Spinetodd, Geier and Seigbaste attacks under his belt to name a few.

Before Nick gets to the ambulance Alan slips out, putting his bloody coat back on and starting to glide away without anyone noticing in all the commotion. He's disappearing like a ghost, much like Toni seemed to evaporate into thin air. But Nick isn't going to let him go.

"Alan, wait!"

He glances over his shoulder but keeps on walking.

"Got no time for that Nick." He shouts back, heading into the dark.

They're well away from the noise and light when Nick snatches his arm and drags him to a stop. Alan looks at him like he's a bug.

"You can't just leave. What happened? What was she?"

"Three guesses, first two don't count."

Nick gets the message, from Alan's words, the completely pissed off air about him it doesn't take a genius to connect the dots.

"And of course she attacked me. I certainly wouldn't drag some goddamn Blutbad into my room to kill her, now would I?"

No, that didn't seem to be his style. Too incriminating.

"You can't just up and leave. You'll have to come down to headquarters."

Alan laughs sardonically.

"You're mad Nick. There's no way I'm coming with you. I'm not going to let you stop me."

"Well, I won't let you continue to terrorize innocent people any more."

"But you're entirely willing to let me be attacked by raving lunatics."

"You brought this on yourself."

It's entirely the wrong thing to say. Even in his injured state Alan is strong. He whips around, backhanding Nick so hard he's flung to the ground. He scrambles for his gun but Alan is a lot faster. He kicks the gun out of Nick's hand and pins his forearm with his foot. He glares down at the Detective with eyes that have gone dark with madness.

"This has nothing to do with you. Stay out of this."

"This has everything to do with me! I won't just let you get away with what you're doing because you're a Grimm."

He doesn't respond to that but he does kick Nick square in the jaw. The world is an explosion of white before a black curtain falls.

Alan glances once at the unconscious Detective but quickly retreats. He imagines his disappearance will be noted quite quickly, especially if Nick doesn't return soon. Fortunately he has enough knives to carry out the task at hand that must be done. He knows of the existence of one Blutbad in this city and he's going to find him and kill him. He must have sent that beast of a woman after him, he's afraid of him, that why he sent an assassin after him. It's time to do some cleansing of this awful city. That's all that matters to Alan right now.

It's all that ever did.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Toni slinks along the perimeter, keeping a safe distance from all the cop cars and the buzz of activity surrounding the hotel. She can't get anywhere near it without getting questioned and she doesn't want to go associating herself with Alan heedlessly if he's gone and caused some chaos and murdered somebody. Especially not if Renard is here. Definitely not.

She notices the ambulance parked near the near the door but there's no cop car surrounding except for one. From her angle she can't see inside but if she can just get a peek…

She slips around the edge, taking the long way through the night to the ambulance. She stays just out of reach of the light, a shadow in the dark. She comes up behind the ambulance which is shrouded in darkness when suddenly her foot hits something and she lurches forward with a cry. She ends up sprawling on the ground, smacking her shoulder against the excruciatingly hard concrete.

"Good god." She mutters.

Crawling back to her feet painfully she feels around for what she tripped over. She can't see a dammed thing in the dark as she gropes in the blackness. Her hand grasps an arm splayed on the ground. She feels around, discovering a whole person.

Rummage in her coat she fishes out a precious flashlight and shines it down at the person's face.

"Nick?"

* * *

><p>Nick is roused to consciousness by something blisteringly cold against his forehead. He squeezes his eyes tighter against a burgeoning headache but then pries them open. Lights are flashing and people are staring down at him but he can't quite recognize them past the screaming headache he has.<p>

"Hey, what happened?" A deep voice asks.

His brain manages to connect that it's Hank.

"Hank. Yeah."

Nick struggles to process what is going on and finally manages to pin names to the faces looking down at him.

"Man, that looks like it hurts." Wu comments.

Nick brings a hand up to his face where he can feel a tender bruise starting to form on his jaw. His fingers brush an ice pack and he presses it to his forehead. The last thing he remembers is being attack by Alan.

"What happened?" Hank says.

"The _victim_ got me. Did you catch him?"

"No, he got away. We noticed he was gone then we noticed that you were gone. We're out looking for him right now." Hank says.

Nick suddenly recognizes the third person and realizes that she is far out of place in this situation.

"Toni?"

"Oh, so you do know her? We weren't quite sure but she was the one that found you behind those cars, knocked out." Wu says, eyeing her almost suspiciously.

Cops are always suspicious of unknown people who claim to know a colleague. Hazard of the job.

"What happened here? They won't tell me anything." Toni says, pointing at the two cops.

Nick sits up, holding the ice pack to his head as he does so and tries to keep his head from splitting apart.

"An attack. A man named Flores was attacked. I tried to stop him but he escaped."

He widens his eyes, trying to convey his message to her in as little words as possible. Her eyes grow big and she nods. Hank looks between the two, trying to pick up on what's being exchanged.

"Do you know him or something?" He asks Toni

The Grimms cast a brief look between each other that Hank doesn't miss.

"Yes. An old acquaintance of mine, actually." Toni says.

Hank's eyes grow suspicious.

"Do you have any idea as to where he would go?"

"I may have an idea."

"I'll go with her and check it out." Nick says, hauling himself up.

The two Grimms race away from Wu and Hank to her car that's parked at the far end of the lot.

"Can you handle the rest here Hank? We got this." Nick shouts back.

They're out of ear shot so quickly Hank can't even protest this strange set up.

Nick manages to pull him self together as they both hop into her car. She practically shoves him into the passenger seat, tossing him her phone.

"Check that, there's a tracker on it. What attacked him?"

"A Blutbad. Then he attacked me. I think he's lost it, he looked pretty unstable there." He says as he scrolls through the phone's functions before finding a map. She speeds out of the parking lot as Nick looks at the screen. There are four blinking dots on a zoomed out map of Northern Portland. One is far away but the other three are closer together, in the same neighbourhood.

"Did you find him?" She asks as she slows the car at the first intersection.

"Um, I don't think your tracker is working."

"What?"  
>She takes the phone back and looks like she's about to throw it out the window.<p>

"That's happened before. He's gotten better at evading my tracking. Okay, call your friend, find out where he is."

"You mean Monroe? You think he's going after him?" Nick says as he wrestles his phone out.

"I'd be willing to bet money on it. This has happened before. His hatred of Blutbaden overwhelms his judgment."

Nick wills the phone to pick up, realizing how sick of that desperate feeling he is. The phone rings and rings until it picks up on the voicemail.

"Damnit Monroe, really?" He growls at the phone.

This has got to be the first time he's ever gotten voicemail with this guy.

"Okay," Toni interjects. "You take the car and head for the farthest alert. I'll go on foot and check these three around here."

"Can you make it there on foot?"

"I've done a lot of walking in my life. Don't worry, just go."  
>Nick takes the driver's seat and Toni retrieves her bow and arrows from the trunk."<p>

"If he's not there, call me. Or I'll call you. If you have to, shoot him."

Nick's mind is racing. They have to move quickly or Monroe is going to die. The horrible thought that he could already be dead hits him. He didn't pick up his phone, that's never happened before. The thought causes his mouth to go dry.

"Hurry." Toni says as she slams the trunk and dashes down the sidewalk as fast as her legs will carry her. Her bow and quiver bounce against her shoulders as she runs. Nick quickly manoeuvres her car out of the intersection and heads for his destination, praying it's not too late.

* * *

><p>The minute Nick and the strange woman disappear into her car Hank heads for his, brushing off Wu's protests. He follows them out of the parking lot, tailing them down the street. They suddenly stop at an intersection and don't move. Hank pulls over to the side and watches intently. Both Nick and her get out. Nick gets in on the driver's side but she heads for the trunk. Hank knows something seriously strange is up when she pulls a behemoth of a bow from the back. He's tempted right then and there to confront them and find out what the hell is going on. Why is Nick working with her? Does he know? How can he not know, she's the killer! Hank has a horrible thought that Nick might be one of these cops gone bad that uses the system to commit crimes and cover them up. He had uncanny knowledge about criminals, that was for sure. But Nick didn't come off as that kind of person. His worries are cut short and pulled back to the situation at hand. The woman starts to run down the sidewalk with the speed of an Olympic athlete. Nick pulls out of the intersection and heads left. Hank is torn on who to follow, both too suspicious to leave alone. He decides to follow Nick for several reasons, one: he knows him and two: he's not carrying a very scary bow. Right off the bat Nick is going at least thirty clicks over the speed limit. Hank has to press the gas pedal hard to keep up with him as he races through the streets. Twice he blows a stop sign at, fortunately, empty intersections. <em>Unfortunately<em>, Hank has to run them too if he wants to keep up with Nick. Hank realizes something must be really wrong for Nick to be driving this recklessly. But why wouldn't he tell him what's wrong? Or even what's going on? Nick is definitely hiding something and he is going to find out what it is. He's come close to getting at what it is but now that something's up he can't stop himself from pursuing it. He finally has a lead to his partner's strange behaviour and he's going to follow it. Nick's been a great partner, one of the best. He doesn't want him to be some crazed murderer. He really doesn't want this to end like that.

* * *

><p>It's a cool night, perfect for a little stroll after the chaos of today. Fortunately for Monroe he lives in a safe neighbourhood so it's okay to go out at night for a walk. And there's little to fear when you're a Blutbad, even when you're Weider, because most thugs you're likely to run into don't know that. He sticks to the sidewalk, admiring the night time woods from afar. He's been reluctant to enter them since Toni's tale of dead bodies in ravines. He really doesn't want to see that. Or the fact that there might be more Reapers lurking in there and he's not on a good basis with them so he's going to avoid that all together, at least until things calm down. He had wondered what Nick was going to do about it but it appears he's just going to leave it. A lot had happened tonight. It had been a day full of Grimms. Lately, life has been too busy, there's hardly any time for other things. Between helping Nick with Wesen cases, Grimm stalking him and hauling them in off the road it's been a very busy day. He knows he shouldn't be surprised but it's still a bit shocking to find that Grimms have individual personalities.<p>

By the time Monroe drags his mind out of his musings he realizes he's all the way down at the convenience store nine blocks from home. It's dimly lit even though it's closed, stock looking eerie in the cast golden light. It's a long way from his house and he rarely comes this far. It's always been a bad habit of his, losing track of time and his surroundings when he thinks too much. The worst incident was after he broke up with Angelina. Walked into the woods and didn't come out for two days because he lost track of time.

He's about to turn around when a scent, nasty and familiar blows in on the wind. It's all the warning he has before he's slammed in the back. The force sends him sprawling to the ground, blinded by pain so intense he nearly blacks out.

Two hands grab him by his coat and start dragging him across the rough concrete. He manages to open his eyes enough to see he's being pulled across the parking lot to the back of the store, out of sight from the street. He twists, breaking his attackers hold and rolls to the side as something heavy slams into the concrete inches from his head. Some primal instinct inside him knows what it is without even seeing it. He scrambles to his feet, back pedaling away.

The Grimm yanks his axe out of the concrete, having slammed it in so hard it jammed in the rock. If that had hit him Monroe knows he wouldn't have felt a thing. He'd be standing at the gates of heaven wondering how the hell he got there.

Alan is panting, knuckles white as he clutches the axe. The man looks even more crazed than he did earlier, eyes huge in the dull light and wide with madness.

"Oh God." Monroe mutters, recognizing him from their brief encounter.

Alan comes in swinging the axe like a madman. Monroe leaps back, ducking. The blade cuts air above his head. He continues to attack, axe zinging as it slices the air again and again. The only thing keeping Monroe ahead of the crazed Grimm is his Blutbad speed and even then he's cutting it close. He doesn't even have a chance to turn and run he's so focused on not getting hacked to bits.

He makes a wrong step, back exposed to the Grimm for all of a second. The handle of the axe comes down on his back with brutal force. Unbelievable, paralyzing pain drops him to his knees. He gasps, unable to draw breath. His eyes bleed red and claws sprout from his fingers. It a reflexive action more than anything and it drives him back to his feet in time to avoid another more fatal attack. But before he can retaliate the flat of the axe head catches him in the shoulder with enough force to make him stumble. He's too far off balance to rescue himself, defenceless for a moment. It's the only opening the Grimm needs.

Bright metal glints in the pale store light for a second before it zips forward. Monroe desperately throws himself to the side when pain explodes in his shoulder. His eyes lock with the icy depths of the Grimm's eyes. He reaches up, his fingers brushing metal that are instantly slicked with blood. A lot of blood. He gasps as the Grimm pushes him backwards, the knife cutting out of his flesh. He staggers backwards, knees buckling as he falls on his bruised back. Air only comes in short gasps between the throbbing pain and the blood running through his fingers. Fear and instinct race through his veins but the pain blinds him as Alan raises the axe once more. It's too late to run, he can't even stand.

"Say goodbye, Blutbad." He hisses though his teeth.

Monroe would close his eyes but he can't take them off the horror that faces him.

He didn't expect this ending.

* * *

><p>The alert is coming from a residential neighbourhood. Nick races down the street as he closes in on the alert. He follows his phone down a street that turns into a dead end alley. Realization that this is a decoy drops into his stomach like a heavy stone. He whips his phone out and punches the numbers hard.<p>

"Pick, pick up, please." He murmurs under his breath.

He hears the phone pick up and doesn't wait to for anybody to answer.

"He's not here."

"I've already hit two." Toni's panting voice replies.

There's a pause and Nick hears ragged breathing harsh in the phone.

"Third point, furthest north. Meet me there. Hurry."

The line dies and Nick hardly looks over his shoulder as he backs out of the alley. As he races out he almost slams into another car right behind him. He honks his horn furiously before zooming out onto the road. Not the way for a cop to behave but he really doesn't feel like a cop right now. He zooms away and doesn't notice who was driving the car.

Hank speeds to catch up after his near collision with Nick. Something is so wrong and he doesn't even have a clue to what it is.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Monroe can't keep looking at the Grimm, not with that axe raised over his head. It's the image of nightmares. Nightmares he's had since he was six. He can't believe this is how it's going to end, after everything else that's happened and had the potential to kill him. He tries to move but the slightest nudge sends pain right through his core. His back stings with every feeble breath. Blood is still gushing from his shoulder, his coat dyed a wet red from it. It's making him too dizzy to even think straight. He closes his eyes and prays it's a quick and at least marginally painless death.

"Alan, stop!"

The Grimm turns at the voice and Monroe's eyes snap open. Toni is standing a few meters behind Alan, bow raised and ready to fire.

"Stop." She repeats steadily.

Alan looks confused.

"Antonia. What are you doing here?"

"Stop what you are doing Alan. He's done nothing wrong."

Alan smiles, a nasty look that can hardly be called a smile and is more like a snarl.

"You're so stupid, Tonia. Stupid and ignorant. You've always been oblivious to threats."

Monroe notices the tiny steps she's taking, inching closer but Alan seems oblivious to it.

"I think you're the handicapped one, Alan. You don't realize the threat that's standing in front of you right now."

Her eyes flicker to Monroe and the message is very clear.

Run.

As quietly as he can he tries to make it to his feet, suppressing the pain as best he can but it's not enough. Alan is a lot more perceptive than a normal human. He whirls around and smashes the axe handle into Monroe's face. Something crunches as he collapses back with a cry. He struggles to stay conscious as more blood gushes from his face. There's a brief whoosh of air and a sharp cry. With bleary eyes he sees Alan stumbles back, an arrow piercing his forearm. The axe clatters to the ground as he reaches up to grab the arrow. He pauses, wrapping his fingers around the shaft. With a grimace and unnatural control he slides the bloody bolt out of his arm. Flesh tears and blood pours from the wound but he doesn't seem to notice as he throws it to the ground.

The look on Toni's face wavers at this horrifying display. Monroe manages to sit up, slowly edging away from the Grimm dual that is escalating. This Grimm is a true monster. The way he easily pulled that arrow out of his arm is worse than scary. The pain in his own arm is so intense, he can't imagine what an arrow going through his arm would feel like. He doesn't want to think about that. It can't be normal. This Grimm is out of his mind, he doesn't even look to be in pain.

He barely makes it a couple meters before sharp pangs radiated through his body. He's left gasping for breath like a fish out of water, struggling against his aching body to stay conscious. But for the moment Alan isn't paying attention to Monroe and is focused on Toni.

He yanks a knife from his belt and points it at her.

"Out of my way or I will kill you."

"You'd kill a fellow Grimm to murder a man who's done nothing wrong?"

"A beast you mean."  
>"No, Alan. Use your head. You're violating everything our ancestors believed in. They only killed the dangerous ones. He's not dangerous and you're mad if you think he is."<p>

Alan is beyond reasoning though. He races forward, stabbing at Toni. She barley dodges the wickedly fast move, whacking him upside the head with her bow as he passes. It cracks across his temple and back but he doesn't even flinch, just spins around and lashes out at her again. She ducks, dropping her bow and blocking with a short sword procured from her sleeve. She counters him twice but it's clear she doesn't have the strength to block him, not in the state of mind he's currently in. She scrambles and gets her hands on the discarded axe. She avoids another blow before jumping to her feet, armed and prepared to hack him up with that axe. Alan stops for a moment, considering his enemy. She's breathing hard and her eyes are wild with adrenaline.

"I'm giving you all of one chance to stop it right now or I knock your head off!"

"You're going to knock _my_ head off? You've gone off your rocker if you're willing to kill me."

"You really have lost your mind!" She screams.

She swings the axe with both arms. Alan looks surprised and ducks just enough to not lose his head. She rolls with the momentum and comes back around, kicking him in the gut. He stumbles back with the force but doesn't look injured at all.

For his position Monroe can see that her attacks aren't having any lasting effect. No matter how hard she hits him he just bounces back, not even impeded by the injury.

"Well, goddamnit if I'm going to be killed by someone like you." She mutters vehemently, bringing her axe back up to bare.

Alan regains his posture and the two fling themselves savagely back into the fight.

Monroe tries to hang on but dizziness and nausea overtake him. He feels himself collapse against the hard concrete, giving himself a dull headache but before he knows it he's plunged into blackness that blots out his pain.

* * *

><p>Nick knows he's speeding but he doesn't care. He needs to get there before someone is killed. He pulls into the empty parking lot, nobody there. There's no cars, no people, nothing. Fear clutches his heart. What if Alan has already killed both of them, disposed of their bodies and left? He's going into full on panic mode when suddenly somebody is flung from the shadows along the side of the store. They tumble and roll into a heap on the concrete as someone else comes after them. Alan grabs Toni and heaves her to her feet.<p>

Nick readies his gun as he jumps out of his car.

"Freeze!" He shouts.

Alan's head snaps up at his voice. Toni retaliates, punching him square in the jaw and kneeing him in the gut. But he hardly reacts to the two very solid blows and flings Toni to the ground, stepping on her head with his foot. She slumps, unconscious.

"Freeze, Alan!" Nick repeats the command.

Nick has seen something like this before. Altered state of mind, when someone literally shuts off the rational side of their brain and act on pure instincts and brutality. Or insanity. Which makes him twice as dangerous and as immune to pain as a Siegbarste.

"Put your hands on your head and get down on your knees! Right now!"

Alan looks at him apathetically, like he doesn't think Nick will actually shoot.

"I knew there was something wrong with you. At first I thought you were the quintessential Grimm, a cop to boot. That's like the dream life. I know it would have made my life a lot easier if I'd been in the system. There wouldn't have been a Wesen that could have escaped me. But you are soft. At first I didn't realize it but when I look back now I notice it was too odd to be normal. No Grimm I've ever met would defend such creatures. No Grimm but you and her." He says, flicking at hand at Toni who is still unconscious underneath his boot.

"Or maybe you're wrong Alan, maybe you're the only crazy one here."

"You are very new and very inexperienced in this world, Nick. And I can see you edging closer there so stop where you are-" He draws a long, sharp knife and points it at Toni. "Or she dies."

Nick stops, lowering his gun to the ground and raising one hand reassuringly.

"You don't have to do this. You know her. You don't want to kill her."

"I will though. Grimms like you and her deserve to die. You are no better than the beasts you protect."

Nick's eyes flicker to where he points and notices Monroe, unconscious on the ground. He also notices the red hue that tarnishes the concrete, even in the terrible lighting it's obvious. Nick's heart nearly stops, assuming the worst. Toni didn't make it in time.

It's his fault now…all his fault…He should have known and stopped this sooner. Alan wasn't sane to begin with, he knew that but he didn't stop it. He got too caught up in politics and didn't pay attention to what he should have been doing.

It's all his fault.

"I'd rather be like the so called 'beasts' than be a goddamn monster like you!" Nick spits.

"Don't worry Nick, it won't matter soon. I'll relieve you of the burden you carry. You just weren't cut out to be a Grimm. "

Suddenly, the knife is no longer pointed at Toni but flying towards him. He has only enough time to duck but he feels the blade rip through the shoulder of his coat and into his flesh. Alan is suddenly right in front of him and tackles him like a line backer, speed and force equal to a Siegbarste's. They crash to the ground. Nick's gun goes off twice, firing blind shots as Alan wrestles him for it. There's no way Nick is going to let that gun leave his hand but Alan is about a hundred times stronger than him right now and his shoulder is burning and weak. Alan punches him twice in the face and slams his gun hand into the ground, trying to free it from his grasp. Nick grips the weapon with all his might, determined not to let go. The third blow to his face has him sees stars and tasting blood in his mouth. He's surprised his nose isn't broken yet but his fingers are going numb. Suddenly Alan's weight is yanked off him. The gun goes flying into the dark. Snarling and sounds of a scuffle ensue. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Toni recovering, sitting up and searching for the axe again.

Nick can see Monroe and Alan battling, a whirl of black cloth and fur. Monroe looks more the monster as a Blutbad than Alan does at the moment.

Weaponless, Alan is a lot less intimidating but no less dangerous. Monroe strikes as hard as he can, focusing on any way possible to knock the Grimm out but his injuries inhibit him. His arm can't move freely, his back is tender and painful with every twist. He couldn't stop himself from transforming when he regained consciousness, seeing that monster about to kill Nick. Though he's blind to most of the pain through pure instinct he's still no match for Alan. He dodges his attempts to tear his arm off, seizing Monroe's arm in the process and twisting it viciously back. It pulls every torn muscle in his shoulder and forces the breath from his lungs. Alan flings Monroe to the ground, stepping on his throat. Instant panic sets in as his air is cut off. He can feel the bones in his throat straining under the weight. He struggles and grapples with the boot but it only presses down harder. He's in full on panic mode when a blur of movement zips forward and suddenly Alan flies back and off him. Monroe coughs and gasps for breath, clutching his throat. He tries to get to his feet but barely manages a sitting position as he continues to choke and retch. Everything hurts and it's too hard to breathe to focus on anything else. The adrenaline surge that propelled him is fading and everything is taking on a slightly darkened hue before he falls unconscious again.

Toni swings the axe a second time, clubbing Alan again as he wheels back. She's about to strike again when two shots ring through the night air. Toni flinches and ducks, spinning around to see a man pointing a gun at her.

"No! Hank!" Nick yells, scrambling to his feet. "Not her!"

In those brief seconds Alan comes up behind Toni, still distracted by Hank and clubs her over the head, wrenching the axe from her grip.

She pitches forward and falls to her knees, looking back at Alan as he goes in for the killing blow.

"Oh, shit." She whispers.

Hank reacts almost on instinct. He re-aims the gun and fires three shots. Alan lurches, axe dropping and hands moving to clutch his chest. He careens backwards onto the ground with a loud _thump_. He doesn't move and that means he's either unconscious or dead. Nick really doesn't care which though he hopes for the latter.

Adrenaline is surging through Nick, half expecting Alan to jump back up and charge once again but he doesn't. He remains quite still on the ground, blood beginning to pool around him. He turns to Hank, who now has his gun trained on Toni who's made it to her feet but is looking like she might not be there for long. She raises her hands and glances to Nick who in turn goes to Hank.

"Its okay, Hank. She's not the killer. It's okay." Nick tires to reassure him.

Hank doesn't look like he fully trusts him or believes it. Seeing two people trying to hack each other apart with axes will do that to you. But to his credit he lowers his gun. His eyes are slightly wider than usual in blatant shock over what he's just seen. Nick wonders for a second just how much he saw but the look on Hank's face says he saw enough.

"Hank…"  
>"Please tell me I shot the right person."<p>

Nick nods numbly as he glances back at Alan on the ground. For some reason he can't seem to kick start himself and neither can Hank. Fortunately, Toni is already on damage control. She's retrieved her cellphone and is talking to a 911 operator.

"We need an ambulance. We have two seriously injured people here."

Still on the phone she crouches next to Alan, testing his pulse as she swipes at a trail of blood running into her eye. She nods to Nick.

He's still alive.

If that's a good or a bad thing Nick doesn't have the energy to figure it out. Not now at least.

She hangs up and points to Monroe wordlessly. Nick notices him for the first time and feels ashamed he didn't notice him sooner in all the chaos. The two Grimms go to the injured Blutbad.

"We have to stop the bleeding before it's too late. It's too close to his heart."

She opens his coat and shirt, exposing the wound to the cold night air. It's a nasty gash, blood pumping from it at an alarming rate. The skin around it is tight and stretched.

"Damn it, infection has already set in. Alan took to poisoning his weapons years ago." Toni says far too calmly.

"Poison?" Nick says, horrified.

"Nothing seriously life threatening, its not too strong but it will kill somebody without treatment. Fortunately…"

She digs in the many pockets of her combat pants, producing some rags and a slim vial.

"I do carry the antidote."

She bends over Monroe, wiping away the excess blood and carefully tapping a few drops of the green liquid into the wound. She quickly folds the remaining rags and presses them to the wound. Nick takes over, using every first aid course he can remember and applies pressure as she searches for something else in her pockets. She produces four pills, popping two of them into her mouth and handing the other two to Nick.

"Painkillers. Essential in this line of work."

He takes them dry, the little capsules burning down his throat. He glances over his shoulder at Hank whose standing back a distance, looking on with confusion, unsure of what to do next.

"What's going on?" He asks numbly.

"We'll have to explain it to you later." Toni says, standing to face him. "You can't say anything to the other cops or your boss. It won't only be your life you put in danger."

Hank notices the dead seriousness in her voice but looks to Nick. He nods, backing Toni. Hank nods too. He wants answers more than anything but he realizes something beyond his understanding is going on and this woman and Nick seem to know what it is.

"Yeah, I was driving Nick home when we noticed a fight. You were just a bystander that tried to help."

She nods, approving the somewhat flimsy story but it's all they've got right now. She hardly even glances at Alan, still sprawled on the ground in his own blood. Frankly, Nick can't be bothered much with him either. She gathers her weaponry and stashes it in Hank's car because hers is sure to be searched after this incident. The sound of police cruisers and ambulances signals the end of the ordeal.

Nick heaves a sigh of relief but he doesn't really feel it. His fingers are warm with Monroe's blood and he's still unconscious. Though his own pain has begun to ebb his worry has not.

It's his fault all of this has happened, and not just Alan. Everything since becoming a Grimm has been his fault and he's dragged people into danger heedlessly. He can take being hurt himself but he doesn't want to see other people hurt because of his stupid actions.

He just doesn't want anyone to be hurt.

Toni claps a hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

"You can't control fate, Nick. Don't try."

Not the most comforting words in the world but it's the best he's going to get from the Grimm. And it's probably the best advice right now.

The best advice for a Grimm.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Two ambulances and a full squadron of police cars comes roaring up to the empty parking lot. Things move quickly as one ambulance takes Monroe and Alan away while Nick and Toni are on the other ambulance bumper getting treated. Nick's wrist is bandaged due to severe bruising as well as his shoulder for the shallow cut that only needed a few stitches. Toni has a bandage taped to her forehead where she took Alan's foot to her face as well as numerous Band-Aids all over her arms from the scuffle. Both manage to get away with only mild concussions, bruises and cuts. They're very lucky given the circumstances.

Toni is having a nasty cut on her side stitched up when Renard pulls up in his car and storms out. He makes a beeline for the ambulance but Hank intercepts him before he gets there, giving him the rundown on their less-than-plausible story. Not that he will believe it if he is a Vormund like Toni says. But Nick is still going to need some reasonable response for what happened, Wesen or no Wesen. Nick forces himself to not look suspiciously at him.

Toni puts a well practiced neutral face on, irritated at the circumstances she finds herself in. The last thing she wanted was to be caught with Nick by Renard but it is clearly unavoidable at this point. Now she has to make it look like she hasn't told the Grimm anything.

"Act like you don't know me." Toni whispers before Renard makes it to them.

"Detective, I'd like to hear from you what happened."

"Well, I was heading home when I saw a conflict going on. Ms. Guerriero tried to intervene before I arrived. Hank was forced to shoot."

It's a shoddy explanation at best and lacks any detail as to what went down but he hadn't practiced anything to say.

Renard's eyes flicker to Toni who is still managing to look calm yet pallid. He seems to be judging the scenario.

"That was very reckless. No civilian should ever get involved in an armed fight."

"Yes, sir." She says sarcastically, giving a mini salute.

Nick focuses on maintaining an innocent and oblivious façade. Renard looks at him, trying to gauge how much he knows.

"Take a few days off, Detective. You'll need it."

The two Grimms watch the Captain return to his car without another word.

"Do you think he bought it?" Nick says.

"Hard to tell. You can never really figure a Vormund out. They're too weird."

Nick slumps on the bumper, pulling the blanket around himself in the chilly air. Its hardly enough to defend against the crisp night wind.

"Don't fall asleep." Toni says. "This night isn't over yet."

Hank returns from talking with Sergeant Wu who casts a quick glance in their direction but doesn't come over. He looks exhausted, drained. The flashing and glaring lights don't seem to be helping much.

When he reaches the Grimms he looks them over with dark eyes.

"Okay Nick. I've waited and now you're going to tell me what happened tonight. And don't try to convince me it was an illusion. I know what I saw."

"Yeah, I know Hank. I'm not going to tell you it was all a hallucination."  
>"Because that would be pushing the limits of believability." Toni says.<p>

They both look to her, Hank curiously and Nick imploringly. He doesn't know how to explain this, not now that it's come down to it. He's still too new at this to know the right way to explain it, where to start or what words to use to convince someone he's not absolutely mad. Hank doesn't seem to want to ask any questions, just wants Nick to explain.

"Well, uh…For a while now I've been able to…see things. Things that other people can't. There are creatures out there, they're called Wesen. They look human but they aren't. Like Monroe. He's a Blutbad. And I'm-we're-" He points to Toni "Are Grimms. We can see these creatures and it's our job to hunt down the bad ones and-"

"Slow down Nick, you're going way too fast." Toni warns, observing the look on Hank's face.

Hank himself can't decide whether he thinks he's gone mad or Nick has. With Nick not doing an adequate job of explaining Toni decides to step in.

"Look, Hank was it? There is a whole underground world humans like you don't know about. I'm sure you read the Brothers Grimm fairytales when you were a kid, stories like Little Red Riding Hood and Goldilocks. They're not just fairy tales. They're honest to goodness real."

Nick wants to slap himself. Why hadn't he explained it like that? It sounded almost reasonable as she said it, not insane like 'I can see things.' It's just how Marie explained it to him. Nick picks up on that train of thought.

"We come from an ancestry of people that can see them. It's our job to deal with the bad ones, keep the balance between Wesen and human."

Hank remains silent for a moment while he digests the onslaught of life changing information. He doesn't react so much as just take it in. That's what Nick felt like at first. The reality has to sink in. Being attacked left, right and center helps to enforce that it isn't a daydream. Hank's probably in shock but he is taking it all in stride.

"So you can see…these things-"  
>"They're not things, they're people." Nick says.<p>

He's surprised he says it, remembering what Monroe had said to him when he used the word 'things' to describe Wesen.

Hank pauses but goes with the flow.

"Then that guy, the one from the Howell girl case. He…" He waves to his face. "Transformed? What is he?"

"He's a Blutbad. They're kind of like Werewolves."

"Is he dangerous?"

"No, no he's not."

"Then the other guy was a…a _Blutbad_ too?"

Toni and Nick glance to each other. How do they explain this without things getting very complicated?  
>"No, unfortunately he was just a bad seed." Toni says, standing and casting off her blanket and retrieving her beaten up coat.<p>

"I'm going to the hospital. As much of a terrible person he is I have to check on him."

She turns to Hank.

"Can you make sure Nick gets my 'equipment?' I'll pick it up at his house."

Hank nods, still a bit stunned.

"Do you need a ride?" He offers.  
>"Nah, looks like they're done rifling through my car over there. Can you handle the rest of it, Nick?"<p>

Nick nods, though not entirely certain he can. Toni strides off down the sidewalk and through the still lingering cops and flashing lights. Nick wishes she would stay longer, the back up in explaining himself is great. But it really is his own story to tell.

Nick and Hank remain silent for a while, mulling over their thoughts.

"So, in summary, you're some sort of cop for these…Wesen. You're supposed to control them?"

"Well, kind of. I can't control what they do, I just have to deal with it when they cause trouble."

"Do you kill them?"

"…sometimes." He whispers.

"How the hell did this happen?"

"You mean you believe me?" Nick says, a bit surprised.

"Well, if I didn't believe you I'd have to confront the idea that _I'm_ the one who's insane and seeing wolf people and crazy women wielding arrows and axes. Your story is so much more appealing."

He smiles and Nick smiles too, relief flooding his weary frame. It feels like the worst part is over. Someone knows what he is and actually believes him. This is going to make his life a lot easier with it being his partner.

"When did this happen? I mean, have you always been like this?"

Nick fills in the 'have you always been crazy' part and sighs.

"No, it's a hereditary thing, it's in the family. My Aunt Marie was a Grimm and when she died I inherited her ability. It's been, what, six months now. It's been total hell."

"So…was she killed for being a Grimm?"

"Pretty much. It's an occupational hazard." Nick says glumly.

"How do you know someone is a Wesen?"

"I see them, like you saw Monroe there but I see them all the time. The only reason you could see him is because he totally lost control and wasn't paying attention to his appearance that normal humans see."

"That certainly explains your uncanny ability to pick out the perp. You've been acting weird for a while now so I was starting to worry. Is that what you've been doing for six months?"  
>"You have no idea. Apparently Portland is a Wesen 'hot spot.' According to Alan it's at about half of the population."<p>

Nick isn't sure whether he should tell him about Renard just yet. He'll keep that secret for now because even he doesn't know what to do with that information.

"Who's Alan?"

"The guy you shot." Nick says, tiredness edging his words.

Exhaustion has set in with a vengeance. It feels like the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders.

"Is he a Wesen or something?"

"No. No, unfortunately he's a Grimm. But he's not like Toni me. He's…traditional."

Hank is overflowing with questions, questions that sound crazy in his head and probably will sound even crazier out in the open. But between his own exhaustion, the night's events and the look on Nick's face he restrains himself from bombarding him. At least he has an answer, no matter how mad it sounds maybe it will sound better in the morning after a good night's rest.

At least he's not some axe murderer. He'll have to find some solace in that.

He claps Nick on the shoulder.

"Go get some sleep, man. Juliette's going to be freaking out. You look dead."  
>"I feel dead."<p>

"Go, I'll finish up with the rest of them here. We can talk in the morning."  
>"Yeah, I promise I'll explain everything."<p>

"You better. Goodnight."  
>"Night."<p>

No matter how much Nick may want to go home and collapse he has to go check on Monroe. The guy nearly got killed for heaven's sake. He doesn't even know if he's doing okay or not. Now it's off to the hospital.

This night is never going to end

* * *

><p>Nick navigates the hospital's sterile halls till he finds room 202, the one the nurse indicated. He peers in, knocking gently on the door frame. Monroe is sitting up in his bed, eyes closed. He looks like someone ran him over…or a Grimm beat him up. His face is a minefield of darkened bruises and little cuts. Either he wasn't sleeping or Nick's knock woke him up because his eyes slowly blink open.<p>

"Hey. How are you feeling?" Nick says.

"Terrible. Thanks for asking."  
>Nick gives a wane smile. He doesn't know what to say. Monroe looks terrible. And it's his fault, all of it. He owes the Blutbad his life ten times over and then some for all the help he's given him. He'd probably have gone crazy and winded up dead long before this point without his help.<p>

He owes Monroe a lot.

"I'm sorry. I never wanted this to happen."  
>"Nick, stop right there. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to help you. This was bound to happen sooner or later."<br>"Yeah, but I didn't want it to happen _at all_. I should have dealt with Alan sooner."

"In all the chaos it would have been a miracle if you could have dealt with him sooner. And no offense but I don't think you could have took him on even at your best. Toni gave him a sound beating and he didn't even notice. He pulled an _arrow_ out of his arm and hardly even flinched. In the end the only thing that could stop him was a bullet."

Monroe winces. Nick feels more guilt.

"Still, I should have done _something_."

"What would you have done?"  
>Nick is silent. What would he have done? Killed him? That seemed the most viable option but it didn't seem necessary at the time. In retrospect so many decisions seem like bad ones.<p>

Monroe doesn't want to linger on this topic any longer. He hates to see Nick beat himself up about this. It is not his fault that Alan was a crazed savage. He knows he did everything thing he could to deal with him. Toni and him both did.

"Was it you who shot him?"

"…no. It was Hank. He followed me I suppose."

"What are you going to tell him?"

"He saw you so…"

Nick waves his hand, at a loss for words.

"I get it."  
>"And he saw Toni with the axe so…I told him."<br>"That you're a Grimm?" Monroe says, slightly incredulous.

"Yeah, he's been suspicious for a while now. I figured it was only a matter of time. And I really had no excuse for the way you looked…no offense."  
>Like Monroe would take offense to something like that, and even now he's in too much pain and Nick looks too frazzled for a witty comment. Not that he can think of any at the moment. It's been one hell of a night. Or a week.<p>

Nick's phone rings.

"I wonder who that is." Monroe says sarcastically.

Nick tentatively picks up the phone to find its Juliette.

"Hey." He says weakly.

"Are you okay? Where are you? You know its 10:30, right?" Juliette's concerned voice says.  
>"Um, actually no. The case kind of got out of hand. I'm coming home now. I'll see you soon."<p>

"Nick, are you okay?" She asks again.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's been a long day."

"Okay, I'll see you soon then. Love you."

"You too. Bye."

He looks to Monroe apologetically. He waves him off.

"Seriously? I'm fine, you on the other hand, might not be if you don't get home soon."

"I'll come tomorrow, okay?"

Monroe nods, looking forward to getting some sleep.

"Bring some tea will you, spare me this hospital crap."

Nick can't help but laugh. He can do that.

"Sure."

"Oh and Nick?"

He stops in the doorway and looks back at his friend.

"What?"

"Will you thank Toni for me?"

"Of course."

* * *

><p>By the time Nick hauls himself in the door its 11:20 and he feels like his eyes are going to start bleeding if he doesn't close them. Juliette seems to pick up on his apparent weariness and doesn't question him too much, joining him upstairs as they prepare for bed. The second he crawls into bed next to Juliette and his head hits the pillow he's out of it.<p>

* * *

><p>A gentle hand is stroking his hair when Nick wakes up. Slowly opening his eyes he turns to see Juliette leaning over him.<p>

"Good morning, sleepy head. Its 10:30."

"10:30?" Nick says, still feeling tired but surprised he slept so late.

"Yeah, I would have let you sleep longer but there's a woman downstairs saying she needs to speak with you. She says she works in your department."  
>"What's her name?"<br>"Antonia Guerriero. Do you know her?"  
>"Uh, yeah. Transfer from Seattle. She's finishing her internship here."<p>

Nick hauls himself out of bed as Juliette returns downstairs and he quickly gets dressed.

When he makes it downstairs he finds Juliette and Toni standing in the doorway having what seems like a pleasant conversation. Toni waves cheerfully when she spots Nick.

"Hi." She says with a smile but is betrayed by the dark look in her eyes.

"Hey." Nick says, trying to sound casual.

"Well, I'll let you two talk." Juliette says and returns to the kitchen.

Nick ushers Toni outside and quietly closes the door behind them.

"Sorry for waking you up. I thought you'd be up by now at least." Toni says.

"Long night." Nick says.

She nods, seriousness overtaking her face.

"Is you friend okay?"

"Yeah, laid up for a few weeks but he'll be fine."

"Good. And your partner?"

"Hank? I've got a bit more to do on that end. He'll be showing up soon I imagine for a full explanation."

"Watch your network, Nick. Don't let it get too big. It's just more work and that's the last thing you need."

"I think it's beyond my control."

"True." She smiles.

Nick has to ask the hard question now.

"Um, Alan…"

"He slipped into a coma, liver failed followed by a heart attack. Died about three this morning."

That explains the weary look on her face.

"I'm sorry."

He doesn't know if he means it but its an automatic saying.

"You shouldn't be. Alan was on the quick path to destruction from day one. It's a wonder he lasted twenty years. Besides, it's better this way."

"How?"

Nick wonders how she can speak of it so frankly, she did knew him well but then again, maybe it's not too odd.

"Really, a crazy Grimm is the last thing any Wesen community needs in this day and age. Especially in a place like this."

"I wanted to thank you. If you hadn't been here it wouldn't have ended well." Nick says.

"You too. He would have killed me too if you hadn't shown up. And your friend. Thank him for me, will you? Both of them."

"Monroe wanted me to thank you too."

There's a moment of silence as they watch the wind rustle the tree leaves overhead.

"I'm leaving. Alan had a brother. He lives back east somewhere and I imagine he's starting to freak out about now. It's not good to leave them on their own too long, they go mad."

"You better take your stuff with you. I got it in the car."  
>They carefully transfer the weapons to her car, stowing the bow, axes and long knives in the trunk under heaps of blankets.<p>

"Did any Grimm weapons show up at the hotel he stayed at?" Toni asks.

"Now that you say it, no. They didn't find anything." Nick says.

"He must have hid them and was planning to come back later. Even in death he's a hassle. If they ever do show up, grab them. They're more valuable than gold in this profession."

"I will. I had a question for you. We never found any fingerprints at the locations of the crimes. I was wondering if you knew how he did it."  
>She laughs, closing the trunk.<p>

"Painfully. He had his fingerprints burned off years ago. It certainly helped him get away with more. He said gloves were too cumbersome."

"How on earth did he do that?"  
>"With a wood sander. It worked quite well obviously."<p>

Nick shivers at the thought but isn't surprised by it in the least. Toni smiles at his reaction.

"It's been a pleasure to meet you, Nick."

"You too."

They shake hands and she heads for the door of her car.

"Do you think it's a curse?" Nick says.

He remembers his Aunt calling it a curse, this sight and this life. He's not sure where he stands. He knows where Alan stood on the matter but he doesn't know about her. She's a lot like him, more like him than Alan anyway.

She shrugs.

"Curse or not you can't change it. Why fret over things set in stone? You just have to keep going or die. It's that simple. And I don't think you are quite ready to die just yet."

She's right, death isn't on his agenda.

She smiles and opens the door to her car. Before she steps in though she looks back.

"Nick?"

"Yes?"

"Beware the Vormund."

* * *

><p>Toni's on her way out of Portland, driving down an empty industrial street when her cellphone rings.<p>

"Hello."  
>"We need to talk." A familiar voice says on the other end. "Stop at the Riverbar construction site. I'll be waiting."<p>

She checks her GPS. It's only three blocks from where she is.

"Wow, its like you're following me." She mutters sarcastically before killing the line.

* * *

><p>She arrives at the construction site, pulling into the empty dirt drive cluttered with building supplies and machinery. From previous meetings she knows where he'll be. She makes a beeline for the hastily constructed tin buildings off to the side. Down a thin alley way between two of them Renard is waiting for her, masked in shadow.<p>

"So, he's dead." He says.  
>"Not wasting any time are you? If you're not convinced his body is in the morgue. I'm sure you can go and see it."<br>"I don't believe that will be necessary."  
>"Why did you order that Lӧwen killed? She didn't strike me as worthy of <em>you<em> ordering her death." Toni says.

"It wasn't on my orders that she was killed."  
>"Then you seem to have a bit of a security problem here. Do you always just let Reapers do whatever they want in your territory?"<p>

"I've been a little busy lately." He says with a half snarl.

"So have I. Are we done? I'm quite ready to leave if you have nothing of importance to say to me."

"I believe you're off to find another Grimm, aren't you."

It's a statement, not a question.  
>"If you already know why do you even bother asking?"<p>

"You may have fooled Nick but you certainly aren't fooling me. You can play saint but you'll never be one, no matter what you do to repent. You don't even care for your dead comrade."  
>"I like to believe I <em>can <em>repent. And anyways, he was no comrade of mine. He was a dead man the minute he entered this city. He had no stealth."  
>"You lack it as much as he did. Arrows aren't an inconspicuous murder weapon."<br>"Ah, yes, but nobody managed to catch me, did they? I'm still very much alive."

The air noticeably changes on those last words, growing heavy almost instantly. As if on cue, both parties whip into action. Fast as lightning guns are drawing, raised sharply at one another. There's a brief pause as they size each other up. Toni laughs out loud, surprising herself.

"I believe we've reached an impasse." She says, a smile quirking her lips. "What will be your course of action now, _Captain_?"

Renard wants to destroy that look of power on her face, that self righteous smirk.

"To afraid I'll get to the trigger at the same time?" She taunts "You should be. I'm a good aim."

She takes a cautious step back, finger on the trigger.

"I wouldn't think twice about killing you." She says. "But right now isn't the time to be throwing this city into chaos with your absence. No matter how much of a threat you are."

"Your absence wouldn't be mourned." He says.  
>"And how would you explain that to Nick? He knows what I am. He wouldn't leave without his suspicions. You're playing it pretty close right now."<p>

Renard eyes her contemptuously. She's right on more than one account and he can attest to her gunmanship. A dead Grimm isn't what he needs lying around right now. And he isn't too eager to die either.

Toni knows she's won this brief battle. Neither lowers their gun but she backs away.

"Don't think you've see the last of me. There's a goddamn war brewing and I have a feeling there's going to be a lot for a Grimm like me to do in it."

Renard can't deny the fact. War is brewing. It's going to be chaos and he knows it.

He should take his chance and kill her now, he won't have the time to hunt her down later when she stirs up trouble. For he is sure she will. But he's not going to take the chance of losing his own life, and to a Grimm at that. She's too dangerous. But if an opportunity ever arises, he will kill her.

She smiles, a twisted and malicious look. She knows what he's thinking.

"See you later then, _Captain_."

She backs out of the alley, carefully retracing her way back to her car. She keeps her gun at the ready till she's back on the road.

Renard watches her pull away, holstering his gun as the she roars down the street. Things are getting out of control and nothing is going as planned.

* * *

><p>Toni glances over her shoulder as she pulls away. Renard's figure disappears and she smirks.<p>

Things have finally reached a critical point. After this nothing will be the same. There are too many people vying for power, too many different parties trying to eliminate the other. The playing field is going to narrow dramatically. Reapers and Grimms, the Verrat and the Lauffeur, even the Seven Families can't all coexist anymore.

This war is going to be bloody and brutal but mercifully short if things get going soon. People are going to die and organizations will fall.

It's the beginning of the end for a dying era.

As a Grimm, she plans to be on the winning side. And that means doing some serious preparation if she wants to keep herself and her people alive.

The stage has been set, it's only waiting for the actors to enter.

THE END

…or is it?

**A/N: I felt I should end the story here but its not really over, I've got plans for a sequel but I want to see what the season finale will be so no elements will clash with each other. I've always had a bad habit of getting run on stories and never finishing them so this is a way to ensure that I do finish this. Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, favourited and alerted me, I enjoyed writing this. Hope to see everyone again soon! :)**


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